


OtherWhen, Part II

by flamethrower



Series: Re-Entry [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, GFY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-01
Updated: 2007-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/pseuds/flamethrower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This is how we go on, when ash is a bitter taste on the wind.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	OtherWhen, Part II

I was sitting on the floor next to the bed, stretched out on my own cloak, because that was where I had slept.  How anyone else could rest on that sinking concoction of foam that masqueraded as a sleeping surface, I had no idea.  If the rest of the beds in Theed were like this, it would explain why the Naboo were such early risers.

 

I didn’t think I would be able to sleep, even after standing statue-like until dawn, refusing to leave the bier until even the embers began to grow cold.

 

To sleep like a stone for half the day had been a surprise.  There had been no dreams, for which I was grateful.

 

I looked at everything that was now laid out on the bed, from the tunics that I had found in Anakin’s size, to the ties, beads, and belt that I found during a speedy search of Theed’s reopened markets.  If I did not botch the job, we would be done well in time for that damned parade, scheduled to take place in two hours.  It would lead into evening celebrations, and I had the feeling that this was one party that might last for days.  Thank the Force that we would be leaving tomorrow.

 

It wasn’t that I had anything against the Gungans and the Naboo celebrating their new truce.  I just wasn’t in the mood for pomp and circumstance.  I doubted I would ever be in the mood for it again.

 

Anakin appeared in the doorway to the bright, airy bedroom that I had been granted, tugging on his sleeve as he fidgeted.  “Padmé said that you wanted to see me.”

 

I smiled and waved him over, and Anakin surprised me by diving into my arms.  I hugged the boy tightly, sensing again the stunned, quiet grief for Qui-Gon that Anakin was trying to cope with.  For all that they had known each other for such a short time, Anakin and my Master had closely bonded.  The only way I knew to help him was to give him his dream.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t attentive to you in the last few days, Anakin,” I whispered.

 

He nodded, and when he stepped back and looked at me, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.  “I know.  I know that you needed time.  I didn’t mind.  Padmé, Sabé, and Eirtaé made sure I wasn’t lonely.”

 

I winced, though I was grateful that the young women had been so willing to look after Anakin.  “I know.  But I still am sorry, and it is not something that will happen again.  You are my Padawan, and you will learn soon enough that I have just as much responsibility to you as you will have to me.”

 

Anakin’s eyebrows shot up.  “You mean… you really are going to train me?  You weren’t just being nice?”

 

“I do very little just to be nice,” I said dryly.  “I try not to mince words among people that I care about.”

 

Anakin smiled, a bright, pure moment of happiness, and I am not ashamed to admit that I basked in his joy.  “Thank you… Master?”

 

I smiled back, able to ignore the hollow ache in my chest for now.  “You’re welcome, Padawan.”  I stood up, then, and picked up the trimmer.  “Ready for a haircut?”

 

Anakin practically bounced, his excitement overshadowing his sadness.  “Yes, Master!”

 

I smiled at his enthusiasm.  I snagged the appropriate locks of hair, motioned for Anakin to hold onto them.  “Don’t lose that hair.  It will be your braid, and if I shave it off, you’re going to have to wait to grow another.”

 

“I won’t lose it,” Anakin said, clenching the length of hair even tighter.  “No way.”

 

I smiled, noticing that the desert scent that had been clinging to Anakin was now barely noticeable.  The handmaidens had told me via commlink that they were having trouble prying Anakin _out_ of his bath, where normally it was effort to get a small boy _into_ one.  It would probably be some time before Anakin became used to having access to that kind of water.

 

I shut down the trimmer, and Anakin rubbed his nose, trying to rid himself of the tickle of falling hair.  I laughed and gently rubbed Anakin’s head and face with a soft towel.  “We don’t quite have time to dunk you in another bath before our presence is needed, but when you shower tonight, it will wash away the rest of the hair and will not be quite so itchy.  Or will showering be a problem?”

 

“No way,” Anakin said, grinning.  “I love showers.  I want to live in my shower!” 

 

"Hmm.  I'll have to introduce you to a friend of mine, the next time we're all in the Temple together.  Bant is a Mon Calamarian, and has just as much fondness for water as you seem to."

 

"That'd be fantastic!" Anakin exclaimed.  "You guys have these kinds of baths in the Temple, too?"

 

"Nothing so extravagant, I'm afraid," I told him.  "But I'm glad you're fond of bathing.  Because of our training, showering is sort of a requirement.  You will get dirty, you will get sweaty, and sometimes you're going to look at yourself and not know what it is you're covered in."

 

"Like blood," Anakin said, his voice quiet, and my heart clenched inside my chest.  I'd had no idea my clothes were bloodstained until Eirtaé had taken me aside to let me know.  My best set of tunics had swiftly gone into the incinerator.  I had enough reminders of my loss, thank you very much.  Like the lightsaber that did not fit my hands, which now rested on the bedside table.

 

"Yes, Anakin.  Sometimes that, too."  I gripped Anakin's shoulders with both hands, and Anakin sighed underneath my touch.  "Come on.  Let's get you dressed."

 

We made short work of ditching Anakin's old clothes, and if I had my way, they were also going into the incinerator.  The outfit was so old and torn that it could no longer be cleaned - and Sabé had assured me that they had tried their best.  I tied the sash in place and gave Anakin a new belt, which he figured out without much trouble.  Finally, with the ease of long practice I braided Anakin's short bit of hair, tying in the two beads before wrapping a thin piece of leather around the end to hold my work in place.  Then I turned my new Padawan towards the mirror.  "Look," I instructed, knowing that this was going to be the most important step in the entire process.

 

Anakin looked, and his mouth fell open as he took in the cream-colored tunics, his spiked hair, and short braid.  "That's not me!" he exclaimed, genuinely startled.

 

“But it is you.  You are now Jedi Padawan Anakin Skywalker, in look as well as name.  What do you think?” I asked, part of me wondering if Anakin wouldn't think this a mistake after all.  Then the boy grinned, his face lighting up like a sun, and that part of me relaxed.

 

“I think I didn’t think I would look like that,” Anakin said, almost dancing in place.  "I look... I look... official!"

 

I laughed.  "That is an excellent way to put it.  These are your official clothes - when we get back to the Temple, we'll get more of these, as well as clothing for you to wear when we're not being 'official'."

 

I thought Anakin's eyes were going to pop out of his skull, he looked so stunned. "I get more?!"

 

I pulled a box out from under the bed to present to Anakin.  "Yes, you get more.  We're not skinflints, though the way Master Windu acts, it may seem to be that way."

 

Anakin's frown at the mention of Mace melted when he saw the new boots in the box.  "I can't wear those!" he yelped.  "I'll get them dirty!"

 

I laughed again - I couldn't help it.  It was wonderful to make someone happy with such simple things.  "That's the general idea, Padawan.  Now put them on, so we can go be official for this da— for this parade."  I'd caught myself just in time.  No sense making Anakin think that he wasn't allowed to enjoy it. 

 

We both turned, ready to go, with Anakin bouncing in his new footwear while trying not to bounce.  "Don't worry," I said.  "You'll get used to being stuffy and decorous, just like the rest of us."

 

"Will not," Anakin replied, mischievous grin in place.  Then the grin faded as I opened the door to find Master Yoda waiting for us.

 

"About to knock, I was," the ancient Master said by way of greeting.  "Beat me to it, you did."

 

"Master Yoda," I said, bowing in greeting.  Anakin did the same, though his was stiff and awkward.  He was uncomfortable with Yoda's presence, but I wasn't sure what to do about that.

 

Yoda, it seemed, had ideas.  "A place of honor, upon the podium you have been granted," he said.  "Representing the Jedi Order, the two of you are.  Do, it would not, to have a Jedi representative with no lightsaber."

 

Anakin sighed. "I understand, Master Yoda.  I can tell them I'm not available--"

 

Yoda cut him off, narrowing his eyes, though he was smiling.  "New you are, so thwack you with my stick I shall not.  Nothing of forbidding your attendance, I said."  He sighed.  "A Padawan you are, and missed much, you have.  A lightsaber you would have had long ago, if different things were.  Soon, build a lightsaber you will.  But now a gift you will have."  With that, Yoda reached into his robes, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt, and held it out to Anakin.

 

Only by long practice did I manage to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor.  While using the lightsabers of others was not unheard of, one did not just give a lightsaber away.

 

Anakin stared at the lightsaber, wide-eyed.  Yoda smiled.  "Bite you, it will not.  Take it you should."  My Padawan did as he was told, looking as if someone had just told him he'd won the Gardasshi lottery while bashing him over the head with a cooking pot.  "Mmm.  Fits your hand well, it does.  Thought so, I did," Yoda said, watching as Anakin rubbed his thumb down the tiny control panel, though he didn't activate it. 

 

"But...  but..." Anakin looked at Yoda in confusion.  "But you don't even _like_ me!"

 

It was not exactly a diplomatic statement, but Yoda didn't seem to mind.  "When a Councilor I am, dislike or like, it matters not.  Fate of all Jedi, my concern must be.  Important to the fate of the Jedi, you are," Yoda said, poking Anakin in the chest with a gentle finger.  "But care for all younglings, I do, and a youngling you still are.  Care for you, I do."

 

I watched two big tears roll down Anakin's face, and hid a smile.  Yoda was a genius.  "You mean it?" Anakin whispered.  When Yoda nodded, he found himself engulfed in an enthusiastic hug.  "Thank you!  Thank you, Master Yoda!"

 

Yoda tried to look aggrieved at having been pounced, but he was still smiling.  "A caring youngling you are."

 

"Er, Master," Anakin said with a bashful grin, managing a bow that looked less stilted than the first one.  "Master Obi-Wan, can I go show Padmé?  We were just talking about this yesterday!" he grinned.  This last hour had melted the depression Anakin had suffered from for the last week, and I was glad to see it.

 

"On one condition, you."  I held up a finger in front of his nose, to make sure I had his attention.  He nodded in agreement.  "Wait until we have the chance to be alone together again before you ignite your lightsaber for the first time.  I have no problem with you sharing your happiness with others, but not at risk to life and limb."

 

"Yes Master Obi-Wan," he agreed immediately, skipping off the moment I waved him along.  It hid the fact that I was still trying to turn around and find this "Master Obi-Wan" person he kept referring to.

 

Yoda was humming under his breath, and I knew the little green imp was waiting for my inevitable comment.  "Master, that's a multi-crystal blade."

 

Yoda blinked at me, unconcerned.  "Handle it, you think he cannot?"

 

I took a deep breath.  Trust Master Yoda to throw a hydrospanner into the works.  "Master, I have no idea.  But devious you are."

 

"Sometimes," he agreed, not even bothering to deny it.  "But honest I was.  Much to learn, he does. Much to learn, you have."

 

I dipped my head in acknowledgment of that truth.  I had a feeling that by the time my relationship with Anakin Skywalker was over, I was going to learn far more than I'd bargained for.  About everything.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

Most of the time my Padawan was in private instruction with the teaching Masters as we all tried to sort out what knowledge he had, and what knowledge he didn’t have.  Anything about the Republic was out, and I knew that I was going to spend more time on Core World history than I ever had thought possible.  It was a good thing I didn’t hate the subject as much as I once did.  Basic rights, laws and bylaws of the Republic - including an entire slew of laws only Coruscant felt the need to come up with - were all being taught to Anakin as rapidly as the boy could soak in the knowledge.  I couldn’t blame him for feeling like he was light-years behind his peers, because he _was_. 

 

Right now he was in a class for advanced mechanics, one of the fields in which he excelled.  Thank goodness for Master Vathrae.  She hadn't blinked an eye at instructing a ten year old boy along with her much older, near-adult Padawan students.  At least there, Anakin would have a chance to interact with other Padawans in the Temple.  He wouldn’t feel ignorant while talking machinery, and would probably be able to hold his own and then some.  Considering that Qui-Gon had told me the boy built his own pod—

 

I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached.  I stumbled into the ‘fresher, almost certain that I was going to throw up.  I stood over the glossy white bowl for a long moment, until my stomach stopped clenching. 

 

On my way back out, I happened to catch my reflection in the mirror, and froze.

 

I stepped back into the mirror’s range, and wondered when I had become such a wraith.  My skin was always pale, but this bordered on the ghastly.  I knew I hadn't been sleeping well - Naboo had been a fluke, after all - but I hadn't noticed that it was catching up with me to such an extent.  There were dark purple rings under eyes that looked far too large for my face. I had lines on my skin, when three weeks ago there had been none but for the occasional scar.  My hair was growing out, and I was letting it, but despite my regular bathing it looked unkempt and dead. 

 

Qui-Gon on the bier had looked more alive than I did at that moment.

 

Bitter taste filling my mouth, I grabbed my cloak and lightsaber, pausing just long enough by the door to slip on my boots.  Rather than gawk at myself, I decided that exercise sounded like a fabulous idea.  Some inner voice taunted me, saying that I was avoiding things, and what good would I be to anyone this way?

 

 _Go to hell,_ I thought, and even smiled a bit when the voice fell silent.

 

 

 

For the most part I was too busy to notice the lack of sleep.  Getting Anakin settled into the Temple was a job three times as hard as taking a Padawan from the crèche.  At night, I lay on my bed, achingly tired and unable to sleep.  It was hard to admit that part of the problem was that, until two weeks ago, this had _not_ been my bed.  It had been my Master’s.  We were still in the same rooms, the quarters that had been Qui-Gon’s and mine.  I’d given Anakin my bedroom, along with a great deal of my things, and had moved into my Master’s old room without much thought beyond practicality.  _My mistake_.  After the first night I’d had the sense to strip the sheets and replace them with linens that had yet to soak up Qui-Gon’s scent and aura.  To lie in Qui-Gon’s bed, surrounded by the smell and feel of him, had been almost enough to drive me mad.

 

I did not cry when I lay down on sterile sheets the following night, even though the lack of scent almost made it worse.  I hadn’t shed a single tear since the melting pit, and it seemed silly to cry now.

 

I tried not to stare at the things that had been his, which was hard, because they surrounded me.  This had been his private refuge, and his presence was everywhere.  I couldn’t stand the thought of putting anything away, even though I knew it might be a relief to me to not see my Master’s touch everywhere I looked.

 

Putting things away meant I was putting _him_ away, and despite my brave words over the pyre, I couldn’t bear the thought.  So I lay in a room that I could not rest in, and watched Qui-Gon miss that last, fatal stab, over and over in my head.  My guilt at not being fast enough or skilled enough to make a difference kept me awake better than any stimulant I’d ever ingested.

 

I sighed, rolling over onto my side restlessly.  I knew that I was almost to the breaking point – I was going to collapse from exhaustion sooner or later.  If I was lucky, I wouldn’t be in the midst of anything dangerous.  If I was unlucky… I couldn't allow Anakin to be the one to suffer for that.  He kept giving me concerned looks when he thought I wouldn't notice.  If he'd felt more secure about his place in my life, he would probably be giving me an earful. 

 

I sat up, put my discarded clothes back on, and pulled on my robe.  Not even bothering with my boots, I ghosted through the main room.  Anakin slept like the dead, and I knew he wouldn’t wake before I returned, for he was exhausted from his frenzied introduction to Temple life as well.  He, at least, had the chance to recover with a good night’s sleep.

 

I padded, barefoot, through the halls of the Temple, greeting the few other residents who were awake in the middle of the night.  I wasn’t the only one with insomnia, it seemed.  Everyone I met gave me sympathy for my Master’s loss, and words about how the Order was bereft without him.  I gritted my teeth and nodded politely in response.  They had no idea how much their words hurt me, but I would never tell them so.  They also congratulated me on my Knighthood, and I managed to thank them, despite not caring one whit about the new rank.  One day it would mean something again, to have attained my life’s dream, I supposed.  Now...  Well, now I didn't give a Bantha's ass.

 

I stepped into the Healer’s Ward, hissing as carpeted hall became cold tile, and my feet complained that I should have at least bothered with socks.  I drifted past mostly-unoccupied beds, though there was a young Padawan girl sleeping there, with her Master seated nearby.  The Master, a Firrerreo I did not know by name, nodded in response to my faint greeting before turning back to the datapad he held.  A horrible feeling of wistfulness stole over me, then;  I never thought I would miss _those_ times. 

 

I ducked around the corner, finding the rows of offices that were assigned to the Master Healers in residence.  I tapped on the door to the third one, already knowing that she was there.

 

Jale Terza opened the door after only a moment.  I waited as she stared hard at me, taking in the now-obvious signs of exhaustion. 

 

She finally spoke.  “I suppose I should be happy that you came to me on your own, instead of being carted down here after falling on your head.  This is a step up.”

 

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” I asked, bitter smile on my face.  “Can I come in, Healer Terza, or are you going to make me stand in the hall?”

 

She waved me in, gesturing for me to sit down in the only clutter-free chair in the office aside from her own.  “Tea?”

 

“No,” I said, the bitter taste back in my mouth.  “That’s the last thing I need.”

 

Her mouth quirked in a smile, and she poured herself a mug of fragrant tea before sitting down across from me.  Terza looked at me, holding the cup just below her chin so the steam wafted up under her nose.  “So how long has it been since you’ve slept, Knight Kenobi?”

 

I winced.  “Gods, don’t call me that.  Call me Kenobi, call me Obi-Wan, call me ‘Hey, you daft get!’  Just don’t call me that.”

 

Terza set her mug down, her expression serious.  “All right, Obi-Wan.  May I ask why?”

 

“I just…” I waved my hands, inarticulate, and then dropped my hands back onto my lap.  “I won’t argue that I didn’t earn it,” I said, not meeting her eyes.  “I survived a battle against something that hasn’t been seen in centuries, despite all the odds stacked against me.  But I’m not comfortable yet with someone calling me by that title.”  It was sort of funny.  I could handle a boy calling me Master, but the thought of people calling me Knight Kenobi had me hunched over as if to ward off a blow.  I shook myself, bothered for reasons I didn't know how to explain.

 

Terza noticed the action but said nothing.  She knew when words were unnecessary.  It was one of the reasons why I liked her.  “And your sleeping habits?”

 

“I go to bed at a reasonable hour every evening, and I stay there until a short time after dawn.  I don’t sleep.  I can't meditate, either."  Any time I settled long enough to achieve some sort of communion with the Force, I dumped myself out of the meditation as if I'd been burned.  There was warmth and light there that I couldn't bear to touch.

 

She nodded, as if she expected that.  “Why?”

 

I stared at her, and my chest tightened.  I opened my mouth, and the answer to her question would not come out.  I closed my mouth, composing myself, before speaking again.  "I don't think I can talk about that right now, Healer Terza.  I'm merely trying to find out if there is a way to get the sleep that I need, so that my Padawan doesn't suffer for my insomnia."

 

She raised one eyebrow, and I could almost read what she was thinking.  But instead of chastising me, she rose from her chair.  "Eventually you will need to talk about this, Obi-Wan."

 

"I know," I whispered.  "I just... not yet.  I can't."

 

"All right," she said.  "I'm not happy about that, but I'm not going to watch you suffer, either."  She headed for the door.  "Let's get back to your place and get you into bed.  I don't want to have to explain to that poor child why his Master is sleeping in my infirmary instead of in his own quarters."  That was the other reason I was here and not seeing some other random Healer.  Terza had welcomed Anakin into the Temple with open arms, one of the few people who hadn't twitched in some way over the boy's presence.

 

"Thank you, Healer Terza," I said softly, rising and grimacing at the pain of stiff, sleep-deprived muscles. 

 

She looked back over her shoulder and grinned at me.  "I'm about to see what kind of sheets you like, Obi-Wan, so I think we can dispense with some formality.  Call me Terza."

 

 

 

Somehow my visits to see Terza became a nightly thing.  It bothered me that I always found her alone.  With Abella completing her Healer's Trials, working among the beastriders on Onderon, Terza didn't seem to get much company.  By unspoken agreement, we talked about everything except Qui-Gon, Naboo, or the Sith.  It was a comfort, considering that those three subjects were the only things anyone else wanted to discuss. 

 

We would speak of how things were going with Anakin, and how I was handling being a new Knight with a new Padawan.  When Anakin was busy, Master Yoda and Master Yaddle, bless them both, were giving me a crash course on what I should expect to deal with during Anakin's training.  They had also found themselves training young ones before they'd planned to.  Even though that had been many years ago, Yoda and Yaddle had many valuable insights.  I would have been a fool to not listen to them. 

 

Terza had listened with a smile as I told her how Bant, returning from time on Mon Calamari to discover my new status, had adopted Anakin as her little brother and was making him feel as welcome as she knew how.  The nostalgia from this made my heart ache - once upon a time, Bant had been my little sister and Temple shadow.  Of course, she was also telling Anakin as many embarrassing stories about me as she could think of, but I didn't mind.  The faster Anakin got over his nervousness around me, the easier it would be to work together.

 

Tonight we shared tea and talked about the latest power shuffle in the Senate.  Chancellor Palpatine seemed to be doing some good - this was the most effective I'd seen our governing body in several years.  I hated that it made Valorum look even less competent, considering how hard he had tried to do things right.  "Of course, when I spoke to Valorum last week, he seemed happy that the media was ignoring him.  I think he always hated the limelight."  I had continued the tradition of Qui-Gon's weekly visits to the former Chancellor's apartment, both for Valorum's sake and mine.  Finis was good to have as an ally, and even better to have as a friend.

 

Terza smiled.  "I always liked him.  Your Master spoke highly of him, as well." 

 

I managed not to let the smile on my face die a horrible death, but it was difficult.  We'd managed to stumble back to that again, after weeks of avoiding it.  I swallowed around the harsh lump in my throat and nodded.  "They were good friends.  Valorum... he feels like he owns part of the blame for Qui-Gon's death, because he asked us to go to Naboo in the first place."

 

Terza sat down her tea and gave me an incredulous look.  "That's ridiculous.  He had no idea that the Sith were working with the Trade Federation."

 

I agreed, though it still made no sense.  The Trade Federation and the Sith made for strange allies.  Not even Master Yoda knew what to make of that connection.  "I told him it was ludicrous, and nothing that happened that month was his fault.  If it hadn't been us, it would have been someone else."  _And if it hadn't been us, there might have been two dead Jedi instead of one_.  No team in the Temple had seen as much combat as we'd managed in the last few years.  It gave me chills to think about what would have happened if the Sith had escaped alive.

 

The Healer gave me a searching look.  "Obi-Wan... why don't you like speaking about Naboo?"

 

I opened my mouth, prepared to say that I still didn't want to talk about it, when the truth tumbled out instead.  "“Because I failed to protect someone I love more than my own life, and every night I watch him die over and over again.”  I marveled at how clinical and detached the words sounded.  "If I'm awake I see it.  If I'm asleep I live it, and that's worse."

 

I had never told anyone how I felt about Qui-Gon Jinn, though some had guessed.  I knew Bant and Garen had mentioned nothing to anyone, keeping my secret even as they teased me for it. 

 

Terza sighed deeply, and I saw that her eyes were filling with unshed tears.  That surprised me – Terza and Qui-Gon had not been on pleasant terms with each other for two years.  “I suppose it’s a good thing that no one knew what your true feelings for him were.  I imagine those words of sympathy would have hurt so much more.”

 

Trust a Healer to know exactly how I felt.  “I almost can't stand that sympathy as it is.”

 

Terza sighed, leaning back in her chair.  "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Obi-Wan.  You need a mind-healer more than a physician, one more well-trained than I am."

 

"Absolutely not," I said, my voice firm.  "If someone asked me right now: "And how does that make you feel?" I would probably throw a potted plant at their head."

 

She stared at me, her mouth quirking in a little smile.  "And I'm sure Master Healer Auf would sit there with great composure, and ask you how that made you feel."

 

That surprised a laugh out of me.  "If the mental image of it makes me feel better, I'm sure actually doing it will make me feel fantastic.  Let's go find a plant and visit Master Auf."

 

She grinned, and then began to laugh.  I thought about the ridiculousness of the situation, and began to laugh with her.  Then I don't know what happened, only that I wound up on the floor in Jale Terza's arms, screaming something incomprehensible into her tunics.  Screaming became sobbing, and I realized she was holding onto me with arms that felt like steel.  "Don't," she was whispering, her voice cracking.  "Don't, don't, don't..."

 

Tears streamed from my eyes, and I gasped for air, for my sanity, and fought for my control back.  Then her fingers were running through my hair, and her voice was soothing me, and I cried harder, trying to release a grief so powerful I didn't know if it would ever fade.  I had been fooling myself.  I hadn't been controlling my grief, my pain.  I'd been refusing to deal with it at all.

 

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not sure who I was speaking to in that moment.  "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..."

 

"Shhh," Terza whispered back.  "You have nothing to be sorry for, Obi-Wan.  Not to me, not to him.  There is no shame in surviving."

 

With those words I realized she had hit upon something that I hadn't even realized - the guilt wrapped up in my grief wasn't associated only with not being able to save his life.  I felt guilt for not being the one to die, instead, and... anger.  I stumbled onto that emotion, realized it had been forgotten in the disaster of everything else.  I was still so damned angry with Qui-Gon Jinn for making me swear to do something I wasn't sure was even in my power to do.

 

I sat back when I could breathe again, running my hands over my face, trying to dry skin that felt salt-burned and abused.  "I'm sorry," I said again, suddenly feeling awkward.  "I didn't mean to—"

 

"Shut up," she said, not unkindly.  "You needed to do that, to give vent to your feelings.  Some things..." she paused, giving me a sad smile.  "There are some things that just shouldn't be given over to the Force.  Not without feeling them first."

 

I sniffed back what tasted like a disgusting combination of mucous and bile.  For the first time in weeks I didn't feel like I was floating off in the distance as I viewed everything around me.  I felt grounded, and realized that even if I still had trouble sleeping, I would be able to meditate again without flinching away from the warm embrace of the Force.  "You sound as if you speak from personal experience," I said, wiping my eyes.

 

Terza gazed at me, her dark brown eyes full of memory.  "There is a reason why you will never hear of me speak of another, Obi-Wan."  The amount of pain I felt from her in that moment was comparable to my own.  Without much thought I leaned forward and brushed my lips against hers, gently, wishing only to convey how much I understood without tarnishing it with words.

 

I sat back and found her staring at me - not in shock, or discomfort, but with mirrored understanding.  We looked at each other, and I could almost hear the Force whispering to us.  _Here is comfort - here is understanding._  

 

She smiled lopsidedly, and I knew she could feel that same sort of nudge from the Force.  "I'm old enough to be your mother."

 

I shrugged, smiling back.  "As you've no doubt already guessed, I do have a preference for individuals older than I am."

 

We took our time, moving slowly, carefully, as if we were trying not to break each other.  Her tunics wound up flung over a stack of medical charts.  Mine became an impromptu pillow.  It didn't matter to her that my experience was limited to three single instances with three different people, and that none of them had been women.  In that moment, it didn't matter to me, either.  She kissed me not with passion, but with ease and acceptance, and I welcomed it, feeling some of my lost peace begin to return.  We both did each other the kindness of making sure our thoughts were focused on what we were doing together, and not on who we might have wished it to be with.

 

When I entered her, with her help, she gasped, tears running from her closed eyes.  I knew it wasn't pain that brought it, and kissed them away.  She opened her eyes, smiled up at me, and then did _something_ with her muscles that was wonderful and intense and felt so damned good I almost saw stars.  "That... that was—"

 

"Shut up," she said again, curling her hand around the back of my neck to bring us closer, our lips meeting as she raised her hips to meet mine.  I didn't know what I was doing, but she did, and I let her lead.  It was the most sedate sex I'd ever had, and the most intimate, and the sweetest, for all it was based upon loss. 

 

She breathed out a word that I thought was my name, her hand on my shoulder clamping down hard.  Then her muscles fluttered and contracted on me, hard.  I gasped and shuddered as I came, the sensation a sharp mix of pleasure and pain that I hadn't expected.  I realized I was gasping for breath, and we collapsed down together onto the floor of her office, side by side, face to face.  Without much thought I drew her into my arms, and she sighed and rested her head against my chest, under my chin.  "Well, _that_ was unexpected," she said, her tone wry.

 

"I am _so_ glad Abella isn't on Coruscant right now," I said, and we both giggled like a pair of recalcitrant teenagers.  I breathed in the scent of her hair, thinking of how nice it would be to sleep like this, even as I realized that this would never happen again.  I couldn't help the wave of sadness at that - and not because I wanted a relationship with Terza.  I rather doubted she wanted one with me, either.  It was because I knew that times like these were going to be altogether too rare in my life.  They would always end on a bittersweet note.

 

"Yes," she said, as if sensing my thoughts.  She pushed away just enough to be able to look at me.  "It's wonderful to find these moments, but there is always that moment of realization.  It's never quite right, because it is not happening with the one you miss the most."

 

I would have sworn that my heart broke anew, though this time I didn't shove the grief aside.  It was mine, and it was all I had.  "I did not get to ... spend time with the one that I miss."

 

She smiled, quiet mourning in her eyes.  "Neither did I."

 

I touched the scar on her chest, a jagged line that rose up from between her breasts to travel towards her left shoulder, feeling a whisper of intuition.  "I have a feeling it has something to do with this."

 

She nodded, and allowed me to pull her close again.  She spoke, the breath of her words sliding across my skin.  "I wasn't always going to be a Healer.  I was a Jedi Padawan at first, going around on missions the same as you.  As my Trials approached, I met another Padawan.  Not so great in the looks department, my friends would have said, but to me..." she sighed.  "I knew he was my match, and after a lot of shy conversations, I knew that he'd realized it, too.  We honored the Code, though," she said, and her tone held a trace of old bitterness.  "Our Masters were friends, and they decided a mission involving the four of us would be a great last hurrah before preparing for my Trials.  We went to Carida for some diplomatic bit of pomp and circumstance, and found treachery instead.  In one day I lost my Master, and my heart."  She shook her head.  "That last bit was almost literal, but it might as well have been true.  I couldn't be a Jedi after that. My heart was not in it.  The bomb took away that path, but opened another.  I discovered my healing gifts that day, as I saved my own life and the life of my Master's best friend.  And then..." she breathed out a deep sigh.  "Then I learned the Healer's first lesson:  sometimes there is nothing you can do."

 

We didn't sleep that night.  We kept talking instead, and I learned that Terza insisted upon the use of her family name because Jale felt too formal, rather than too intimate, answering an old curiosity of mine.  Her lost mate's name had been Tanak el Dram.  She'd completed the Healer's Trials in record time, leaving such an impression that she'd landed a permanent assignment on Coruscant, focusing on long-term care for severely injured Jedi.  Abella was her second Padawan, and she was already debating a third once Abella's training was complete.

 

After a few hours, tea, and a half-assed attempt at getting dressed, I managed to tell Terza most of what had happened on Naboo, and how Qui-Gon had presented me with one of the greatest challenges of my life with his last breath.

 

She looked thoughtful.  "Knowing what you do now, if you had the opportunity to speak again with Qui-Gon about Anakin, what would you say?"

 

I didn't even need to think about it.  "I'd tell him that I thought he was right - that Anakin needed to be trained.  However, I'd have insisted that Master Yoda do it - or that he do it, as long as he would have bloody waited to Knight me properly before kicking me out of my room."  _And into his bed would have been nice,_ I continued silently.  But if wishes were fish, I'd be drowning in a Mon Calamarian ocean of them. 

 

"You certainly aren't going to foist the boy off onto someone else, not at this point," Terza said, concerned.

 

I shook my head immediately, appalled at the very idea.  "Of course not.  He has enough insecurities in place.  If I did that, it would destroy any chance he had of feeling like he belonged here."

 

She took a sip of her tea, refilling my cup when I drained it.  "What are you going to do, then?"

 

I shrugged, trying to impart a certainty that I didn't feel.  "Attempt to train him as well as Master Yoda could have.  I will not go back on my word, and I will not hurt Anakin again."

 

 

That night, that moment, was the turning point for me.  I could sleep again, and dream again, though the themes of my dreams were invariably sad.  I no longer looked like a zombie, but the lines on my face wouldn't fade.  It was fitting, considering that healing or not, I was never going to forget what I had lost.  On some level, losing Qui-Gon Jinn was always going to hurt.

 

I had Anakin stay home from classes for two days, and set to work actually making the Master-Padawan apartment his and mine.  It was hard to feel like you belonged when you were stuck looking at someone else's things all of the time.  I knew it would make Anakin feel more like he was meant to be here with me. 

 

We packed up a great deal of my Master's former belongings, though I kept things that I had always thought of as 'ours'.  Some items we had acquired together, or my Master had discovered them and brought them home after I had come to live with him.  I found I was finally able to answer my new Padawan's questions about the things he'd been living around for weeks, and told him stories about each acquisition when he asked.  I regretted the stories I couldn't tell him, because I didn't know them myself.  I'd never thought to ask, foolishly believing that I would always have time to do so. 

 

Qui-Gon had maintained such an eclectic collection of items that even I was finding things I had never noticed before.  A stone in a bowl that shed clear layers of material and was like nothing I had ever seen before.  A painting hidden behind a tapestry with secrets hidden in its depths.  A long spoon made of silver, etched with a lettering I was unfamiliar with.  A tabac holder held my attention for a long moment, still holding the scent of long ago-used sweet tabac.  I'd never known of Qui-Gon to imbibe - he'd said it made his throat burn horribly.  I could only wonder at who had once owned it, and how it came into my Master's possession.

 

Anakin was allowed to redecorate his room to his own tastes instead of dealing with my cast-offs, and did so with the amazement of one to whom choice was still a new thing.  He refused to part with my sheets, saying they were the softest he'd ever used.  I told him they were only that way because I'd used the life out of them, and Anakin shrugged.  Even I had to admit that they were still comfortable, even if the original pattern had been vanquished by many washings, wear, and time.

 

Packing up Qui-Gon's clothing was harder to do than I thought it would be.  I made that my task while Anakin worked on setting up his new room, and found myself overwhelmed.  Scent and feel that I'd cherished for seven years was everywhere. 

 

Anakin stepped into the bedroom to catch me practically hugging an older robe, and gave me an odd look.  "Master Obi-Wan?" he ventured, looking hesitant.

 

"What is it, Anakin?" I responded, forcing myself to add the robe to an open box after checking the pockets.  I kept finding flimsiplast notes, rocks, and other interesting bits of detritus.  It would have been fascinating, in other circumstances.

 

"...I... I thought you didn't like Master Qui-Gon," he said finally, biting his lip.

 

My mouth fell open.  "What?!" I squeaked, shocked.  Of everything I could have expected, that was definitely not anywhere on the list.

 

Anakin winced like someone had offered to hit him.  "I mean... you guys didn't seem to get along very well, is all.  You were all stiff and stilted, or arguing with each other when you thought no one was looking.  And you never wanted to talk about him until... until today."

 

I sighed, realizing the truth of his words.  The Naboo hadn't really noticed, concerned as they were with their own matters.  To Anakin, though, we'd probably looked like a pair of quarreling ninnies.  It made my heart hurt all over again, to know that we had spent the last week of Qui-Gon's life barely civil to each other.  "Believe me, Padawan.  Nothing could be further from the truth."

 

Anakin tilted his head to one side, and then his eyes widened.  "Ohhh.  Oh.  Yeah.  Right.  You mean you and he were..." he made a motion with his hands and pointed at the bed.

 

My capacity for being embarrassed still functioned perfectly.  I turned red and shook my head.  "No.  No, we weren't... not that.  But..." I trailed off, not sure I knew how to explain it to him.  _But I wanted to be._

 

Maybe the thought showed on my face, because Anakin nodded.  "Yeah."  He bit his lip again, shifting back and forth on his bare feet.  Recognizing the action for what it was, I quietly held up my arms.  My Padawan darted forward into the circle of my arms, tears already flowing from his eyes.  "I'm sorry, Master!" he cried, sobbing into my tunics.  "I miss him!"

 

I rocked a ten year old boy in my lap and realized I was crying again, as well.  "As do I, Anakin," I whispered.  "As do I."

 

 

By the evening of the second day, the job was done.  Clothing and the like was sent back to Stores, to see if it could be re-used and otherwise recycled.  Most of the treasures that had graced Qui-Gon's quarters I took to an area of the Temple where Jedi belongings that were no longer needed or wanted seemed to collect, free for others to claim as their own.  Anakin and I were going to have to make our own space together, as much as I hated to part with most of the items.

 

The next morning Anakin returned to his classes, which now included basic lessons with the lightsaber Yoda had gifted him.  I would be joining him later, but first I had a task of my own to complete.

 

  

  1. After years of interacting with those crystals, the lightsaber would always carry a faint resonance of Qui-Gon's presence.
  



 

It was time to move on, as much as it hurt my heart to do so.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

"Knight Kenobi!"  It was that third repetition that finally impinged on what I was doing, and I looked up while blinking grit out of my eyes.  Bant Eerin was standing there, almost unrecognizable under a thick layer of dust.  "What do I have to do to get your attention, huh?" she said, reaching out with and rubbing dirt off of my face with a gentle hand.  "You think we have a surplus of Knights named Kenobi, and we'll get to you eventually?"

 

"Sorry, Bant," I said, sheepish at having been caught so distracted.  I shook another layer of dust off of the flimsiplast blueprints I'd been looking at.  "I'm not used to it yet."

 

"I'm not used to it yet,' he says," Bant mocked with a smile.  She shook her head in disbelief.  "It's only been three years.  I've got more of a reason to not be used to being called a Knight than you do."  My Mon Calamarian friend had been Knighted a year and a half ago after finishing her tutelage under Kit Fisto, and the only way I'd found out was because she was assigned to join me on this rescue operation. 

 

"Only three?" I offered, deadpan, before handing her a cup of the disturbingly strong caff that first Tahl, and then Garen, had addicted her to.

 

"Hah, hah.  See how much I laugh, yearmate?" she replied, accepting the offered cup.  "Where is your scrawny Padawan?"

 

"He's trying to find more of these," I said, tapping the blueprints on the table before me, "so we can figure out more of this area, get a better idea of where people could be.  And don't call my Padawan scrawny.  He's gangly, not scrawny."

 

Bant giggled.  “Scrawny, gangly, whatever.  I'm going to need him to give me a lift back to the capital when he's done searching.  Time for our evening reports to the Lac'kaiondoc Council, not to mention our own Council."

 

I smiled.  "How does it feel to be giving solo reports to the Council?" I asked, raising my own caff to my lips.

 

Bant made a face.  "Like I need to scratch my nether regions all the time."

 

The caff I'd tried to drink made its way into my sinuses instead.  I coughed, glared at her, and tried not to shoot liquid from my nose.  She grinned at me, unrepentant.  "Wench."

 

"You love it," she said.  Then she steered the conversation back to business.  "How are the Healers holding up?  Should I send for a new batch to spell the current one?"

 

I thought about it, one of the many details I'd cataloged in my head during the day.  "They're doing well.  The local government had sense for once in the requests they made, and the loss of life is not as bad as was originally feared.  I'd ask for a new shipment of basic supplies - water, food, clothing.  Maybe some more of those portable dwellings that Corellia sent."  Most cities on the continent had been turned into rubble.  Lac'kaio had suffered an earthquake so terrible that it was shocking even on the galactic scale.  "Have you already checked in with Master Unduli?"

 

Bant nodded.  "Yeah.  They're not doing too badly over there, though her Padawan, Barriss, took a bad fall during a dig.  She's okay," she said, before I could question.  "Just a broken arm.  Healers will have her back on duty in a day or so, if the break mends well.  I already have their requests, and Master Yaddle's requests.  Oh, and Siri says that they're done in her section, and they'll be moving on to the next city to give the Alderaanian crew a hand.  That, and I think she wants to get the opportunity to kick Master C'baoth in the shins," Bant finished, her expression saying that she would probably like the chance to do the same. 

 

"Tell Siri to be nice," I said, though I disliked Jorus C'baoth as much as the others.  The man seemed to go out of his way to present himself in an obnoxious manner.  "He might be an ass, but he could still swat her at fifty paces."

 

Bant grinned.  "I already told her so.  Besides, I think Master Yaddle has already reserved the right to take him down a few pegs.  She was grumbling under her breath about an attitude problem."

  
            I almost felt sorry for him.  Master Yaddle's temper, once roused, was legendary.  "Well, if things keep up the way they are, we're looking at a very low body count," I said, trying to get back on topic.  "Thanks to the building material the Lac'kaiondoc use, we're actually digging out more survivors than bodies."

 

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, an affectation she'd pick up to denote pleasure.  "I'm liking those odds."

 

"So am I," I said, sitting down on one of the flimsy chairs the Lac'kaiondoc crew we were working with had provided.  "Qui-Gon and I saw our share of disasters, but all things considered, I think this will be the least horrible of them all." 

 

Both of us looked up at what had once been the catacombed city of Lac'kithro, formerly home to a mass of curious and intensely humorous beings that built in as many directions as they could.  They were very social, with interconnected homes and businesses in one great network.  "I've seen the holo of this place.  It was beautiful to look at before the earthquakes.  The Lac'kaiondoc are quite fond of vivid colors."

 

"You _are_ turning into Qui-Gon Jinn," Bant teased.  "You loathed social histories when we had to take classes for it."

 

"I merely got tired of the history of the Core Worlds rehashed in every single subject until I could recite it in my sleep," I retorted, trying to ignore the flutter of pride her words had given me. 

 

I noticed one of the locals approaching, almost invisible against the backdrop of gray.  When the cities had gone down, the dust had flown.  Even from space the formerly green continent was gray and drab.  It was going to take several months of clean-up beyond the initial rescue efforts to straighten the place out, and the aftershocks kept stirring things anew.  "What is it?" I asked, standing up and fearing bad news.

 

The lead Lac'kaiondoc, Brath, was grinning.  "We found the little ones!  The school!  And they're fine!  Just bruised!  Bruised!" he cried, and laughed as others in the area paused their efforts long enough to cheer.  Both Bant and I sighed in relief;  the city's school had been one of our priorities, since most of the children had been in attendance when the earthquakes began. 

 

"Bloody miracle," I said, walking over to the large relief map of the city had been put on display.  It was covered with white pins and several red ones, and I was happy to add another white one to the collection.  The fewer red pins I had to place, marking the places where bodies had been found, the less dreaming I would do about this place.

 

Another crew came up, and I passed out blueprint copies to them - ones that the Force told me were the most likely to lead to survivors.  Once Anakin arrived with the new documents, I was going back out with them to hunt for the life signs that blueprints might not be of use for.

 

Another aftershock rattled the ground beneath my feet.  I reached out and held the caff pot and map in place.  Bant braced herself against a broken wall as everyone paused their work to see what further damage the new quake would cause.  When nothing crumbled, everyone resumed what they were doing, and Bant bent to help me retrieve the 'plasts that had fallen from the table.  "This is highly unnatural, you know."

 

I looked at her, her words striking me as odd.  "Earthquakes are perfectly natural."

 

"I didn't mean the quakes," she said, sitting down in the chair I'd just vacated.  "I mean this.  You.  In charge, of all things."

 

"I'm not sure what you're getting at."

 

"Look," Bant said, leaning forward in the chair and looking up at me.  "You've been a Knight for a whopping three years.  You picked up a Padawan first thing, when most of us don't even consider it for at least a year.  The rest of us don't bother for five years or longer.  You're in charge of a major operation despite the presence of Jedi that are definitely senior in rank."

 

I shook my head, unwilling to concede her point.  "Qui-Gon and I did this all the time."

 

She rolled her eyes at me.  "How can you be so smart and yet so dumb?"

 

I grinned.  "I hear human males are good at that sort of thing."

 

She laughed.  "Yearmate, Master Jinn was much older than us.  That's why you saw all of those harsh missions along with the delicate, diplomatic ones.  Qui-Gon's apprentice or not, I think it says something that you're already doing his job."

 

"Yes," I nodded.  "It says that I'm gullible.  Have you _seen_ the stuff we're covered with?  Can you imagine how much bathing we'll need to do when we go home?"

 

Bant rested her chin in her hands and sighed, a clear sign of defeat.  "Humans are impossible, especially you.  This is all your Master's fault."

 

"Probably."  I was content to let the subject drop, because in truth it made me uncomfortable.  As far as I was concerned, she was right.  I had taken the assignment without thought, the same way I had for the last two years since Anakin had been cleared for mission duty.  To discover that Master Yaddle and Master C'baoth had been placed under my command had startled me, but I had done what was asked of me, regardless.  In truth, I gave most of the credit to Anakin's rapid accomplishments.  The boy had amazed his instructors - and me - by absorbing every technique in the Force taught to Initiates in a frighteningly short time.  He had taken the tiny bits of advice Qui-Gon had given him on Tatooine and turned them into a strong foundation of learning, and was already well on his way to becoming a Jedi Knight.  He was, to my chagrin and amusement, terrible with a lightsaber, but he would learn.  I had already caught him taking his lightsaber apart to better understand it. 

 

Thank goodness it hadn't been Master Yoda's gifted lightsaber.  Anakin had outgrown that two years ago, and the thought of my apprentice sorting through the pieces of a multi-crystal blade made me nervous. 

 

He devoured texts on figures, sciences, and histories with enthusiasm.  The only subject I'd caught him complaining about was pilot training.  He could already ace most of the simulators for the licenses available to his age group, but the elder piloting Master had insisted that Anakin go through every single step in the learning process, despite his ability.  It was a good lesson in patience, though I understood Anakin's frustration.

 

The problem, of course, was that no one had expected Anakin to progress so well, and so quickly.  I had the sense not to make a big deal out of it, for Anakin's sake, though I was just as amazed as the rest of them.  Others, however, tended to stare at my apprentice like he was an interesting new form of life. 

 

We were both so damned sick of the Prophecy of the Chosen One that Anakin rolled his eyes whenever it was mentioned.  Boys who had just turned thirteen didn't concern themselves too much with bringing balance to the Force.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I woke up, stretched, and realized that I hadn't had to chase my Padawan around in the lower levels of Coruscant for almost a year.  Constant missions helped, and filling his days full of training when we were on Coruscant had finished off the last of his desire to get into trouble.  Speaking of which... _Are you awake, Padawan?_

 

There was a startled mental yelp.  _I am_ now, _Master.  You're loud!_  

 

I grinned, sitting up in bed to start the process of getting dressed.  _That is the entire point.  I want you to meet me in the south Temple gardens in half an hour._

 

I could picture him stopping in the midst of digging around for fresh clothing.  _But... but... breakfast?_ he asked, with the pathetic whimper only a swiftly growing fourteen year old boy could manage.

 

_If you eat something, I suggest you keep it light.  You may lose it, otherwise._

 

 _Er... okay.  Sure, Master._   Dubious acceptance.  _I'll meet you there after I find some body armor._

 

I laughed, hearing the distinctive slam of the 'fresher door shutting as Anakin bolted into the shower to escape.  We had an unspoken rule about privacy regarding the 'fresher:  no mental communication while inside, formed when Anakin had discovered his own left hand.  Really, considering my own sex life was just about as exciting, I was quite happy with a bit of privacy.

 

 

Anakin was on his knees in the grass, a pensive frown on his face as he tried to meditate.  "That's supposed to be relaxing," I told him as I joined him.

 

My Padawan opened his eyes and looked sheepish.  "I know, Master.  It's... it's just weird."

 

I settled down onto the still-wet grass.  The Temple's climate control system was programmed to make sure that a dew cycle occurred every morning, and I'd long ago gotten used to having wet pants during early training sessions.  "What's weird, Padawan?" I asked.  Anakin had been reticent about speaking of his meditations of late.  If he was willing to talk about it, I was more than ready to listen.

 

"Well..." he bit his lip, a habit that had been more frequent since our mission to Zonama Sekot six months ago.  "It's just - you've always told me that when you meditate, you don't see much unless you direct your thoughts in a certain direction.  Right?" 

 

I nodded.  Meditation was usually a pleasant, soothing way to relax, when I wasn't using it to let the Force guide me towards a solution.  "Generally that's the case.  When I was younger, I used to have visions at random times when I meditated, but those have ceased."

 

"Since Naboo," Anakin said, still looking pensive.  I raised one eyebrow but nodded again.  My Padawan, perceptive as ever.  "I see things sometimes, too, but I think that thing Master Yoda keeps grumbling at me about is still a problem, because I can't figure out what's going on."

 

"Master Yoda can keep grumbling," I said, smiling.  "Gaining control of your visions will come with time."

 

Anakin ducked his head, but I knew he wasn't quite convinced.  Neither was I, when I was his age.  "When I meditate, Master... I see so much.  Sometimes I think I'm seeing everything.  But if I'm seeing everything, I don't know what to do about it.  Master Windu keeps giving me this look, as if to say 'Well, you're the Chosen One.  When are you going to do something Chooseable?'"

 

One of these days I was going to kick Mace for keeping that up.  It made Anakin nervous and uncomfortable.  "Master Windu is... not one for subtlety," I told Anakin, trying to be diplomatic.  "And I don't care what that stupid Prophecy says."  Anakin's face lit up, and I knew it made him feel better to hear that I didn't care about any prophecy - which was true.  I had enough on my plate just in training the boy.  Going about digging for new problems was not in our best interest.  "You are strong in the Force, Anakin, that is true.  But you are learning, and with time, practice, and control, you will discover what it is the Force may be trying to tell you.  You just need patience."

 

Anakin's lips twisted.  "I hate patience," he muttered.  "Why can't things just happen now?"

 

"Sometimes being patient may not bring about the results that you desire.  Other times, patience will indeed pay off.  As for the rest - if there was nothing in this life to anticipate, think of how bloody bored we would be?"

 

He thought about it, then nodded.  "I guess.  I think I understand that about as well as Master Yoda's 'Try Not' speech."

 

"Once it sinks in, though, it is a very effective mentality," I said, not wanting him to give up on either bits of advice.  "Confidence in yourself is confidence in your abilities."

 

"And overconfidence can be your downfall," Anakin finished.  The coda was one of Adi Gallia's, one I had always found particularly true.

 

"I hadn't planned on starting the morning with philosophy," I said, fighting a yawn.  "I'd planned to run you in circles."  Before Anakin could groan in dismay, I continued.  "Then I have something special to teach you."

 

That had his attention.  "What is it?"

 

I shook my head.  "Patience, Padawan."  He rolled his eyes at me, and I laughed.  With that I stood and went into the first movement of one of the basic, unarmed katas, and Anakin dutifully followed my lead.  In four and a half years, he had learned much, and was almost on the same level as other Padawans his age.  His only real lack was his skill with a lightsaber.  I was hoping that what I would teach him today might help him get over his reticence in using the weapon.

 

After the warm up, I led him on a merry chase through most of the southern gardens, chosen explicitly for their size and their emptiness at this time of morning.  I tried to make sure we did this several times a week, but usually we were off-planet.  Even then, we didn't miss out on the exercise, because there were ample opportunities to run -- usually for our lives.  Running in tune with the Force increased agility, endurance, speed, and aided in the ability to dodge.  Anakin was getting quite good at all of it.  He was now able to keep up with my mad runs through bushes, up and down trees, over ponds, and around precious plants that couldn't afford a booted pair of feet to crush them. 

 

This morning I decided to shake things up a bit.  We were coming to the walled end of the garden.  On the other side of the garden was one of the Initiate's play-yard enclosures, full of toys and, if my ears weren't deceiving me, babbling young children.  Without hesitation I ran up the wall and was over it in one smooth motion.  Sixteen children looked up, startled, and began to clap and giggle when they realized they'd been made part of a training exercise.

 

I heard Anakin run up the wall, make it over and land on the ground with a muted thump.  Then he cried out in surprise and tripped over the children he hadn't noticed, falling down on the wet grass.  I made sure the Force cushioned the children from Anakin's flailing limbs.  Then I allowed the younglings to swarm him.  The children of the Falcon clan shouted with glee and turned Anakin Skywalker into their new play toy.

 

"Mmmph!" Anakin said, prying off a very happy little girl who was trying to sit on his face.  "Master!"

 

I sat down on the grass next to Terrilanar, the Wookiee teacher for the clan.  [Greetings, Master,] I said.  [Thank you for allowing us to join you this morning.]

 

[I didn't hear you asking for permission, scamp,] the elder Wookiee female replied, chuckling.  [And your pronunciation is abominable.  You need more practice.]

 

"Master!" Anakin wailed again.  "They're going to eat me!  And I haven't had breakfast yet!"

 

"Hmm.  Breakfast comes later.  What have you learned, Padawan?"

 

I heard a sigh come from underneath the pile of children who were now playing Emperor of the Mountain on top of my Padawan.  "To pay more attention to my surroundings, Master.  And to realize that you're a very bad man."

 

Terrilanar laughed outright.  [He learns his lessons quickly, this one.  Come, children!] she clapped her massive hands together.  [Back away from Padawan Skywalker before you smother him.]

 

Several disappointed grumbles later, Anakin was left unmolested, though the children began to cajole him for treats and stories, or both.  "Thank you, Master Terrilanar," Anakin said, scrubbing dirt off of his face.  "Sorry to barge in on you."

 

"Come on, Padawan.  We still have things to do this morning."

 

We said our farewells to the crèche clan, though Anakin looked hesitant about leaving.  "You could come back, you know," I told him, leading the way through the door to return to the gardens.

 

"Really?" Anakin's expression brightened.  "You wouldn't mind?"

 

"Anakin, when you are not training with me or in class, your time is your own.  You would not be the first of us to find solace here.  Qui-Gon was also fond of spending time with the little ones, though our schedule didn't allow for it very often."

 

"He was?  Really?"  Anakin looked as if he couldn't imagine the concept.  "And I can really do what I want when you don't need me?"  I nodded.  "But... then why do you get so mad when I go downside?"

 

I sighed, waving for Anakin to sit on a bench beside me.  "That's different.  It's not that I don't wish to allow you freedom, or that I wish to imply that Tatooine is not as dangerous as Coruscant."  I settled back in the seat, trying to choose my words carefully.  "The lower levels _are_ dangerous, make no mistake about that, especially with the activities you have chosen to pursue while down there."  I'd been more than a little shocked to realize that Anakin had already established a reputation as a pilot to watch in Coruscant's illegal swoop races.  "You are good at fending for yourself, but you still have much to learn.  Please realize: as a slave, you actually enjoyed certain protections that you no longer have here."

 

Anakin gave me a baffled look.  "Protections?  I didn't have any protection."

 

"While I loathe the entire system, you were the property of someone else.  Your master may not have been very high on the food chain, but the Hutts do ensure that order is maintained in regions under their control.  If someone had killed you, they would have had to pay Watto a large sum of money to cover your cost."  I gave Anakin a pointed look.  "And that type of scum usually hates parting with money more than they like to murder slaves."

 

Anakin's brow furrowed.  "But... I'm a Jedi.  Shouldn't I have some kind of protection, too?"

 

"We enjoy legal protections, yes," I said, glad he was listening and asking questions.  Sometimes I despaired of getting through to my very stubborn Padawan.  "But Anakin: we _are_ the protectors, and as such, most of the Republic expects us to look after ourselves.  Those of the criminal element who would attack you don't see some random teenager - they see a notch on their belt.  They see bragging rights at having killed a Jedi.  They won't care if you're just a student, and they certainly aren't under any kind of threat to have to repay your value.  As far as the underbelly of Coruscant is concerned, the laws of the Republic don't apply - and neither do anyone else's."

 

"Then shouldn't we make them care?  About the law, I mean?" Anakin asked, frowning at me.  "Isn't that our job?"

 

"In a sense.  There is a balance to be maintained, though, Padawan.  We and the Coruscant security forces do police the upper levels, and if the more unsavory elements try to operate here, we do something about it.  We do not seek them in the lower levels unless there is due cause, and most of the residents of Coruscant understand that to enter the lower levels is to take responsibility for your own life.  If the Jedi were to try to clear out the entirety of the lower levels, it could take decades, and all of our resources.  In the meantime, the rest of the galaxy would suffer, because we were not available to see to other, larger problems that would potentially occur."

 

"Then we need more Jedi," Anakin said, as if the problem were that easy to solve.  "If there were more of us, we could help more people.  I mean, we're sending all of these kids to the Corps instead of training them.  It doesn't make any sense!"

 

"It's not that simple, Anakin," I said, trying not to wind up with a headache.  My Padawan was asking me questions that forced me to give answers that weren't even satisfying to me.  "There aren't enough training Masters to go around."

 

He shrugged, his frustration showing.  "Then get rid of that stupid rule.  In our classes we have one teacher to thirty students or more.  Why can't we have more than one Padawan to a Master?"

 

"I suppose you would not be pleased if I told you that it simply wasn't done that way," I drawled, and Anakin's intensity came down a few notches.

 

"Not really, Master," Anakin said, ducking his head in apology.  "But why isn't it done that way?"

 

"If we get into that, we're not going to get anything else done this morning," I said.  "Let's finish what we started, and then I'll tell you what texts to look for in the Archives to find the answers to your questions."

 

Anakin looked horrified.  "You're going to make me deal with _her_?"

 

I grinned.  "Not today.  The texts in question you can download into your reader from your quarters.  You don't have to deal with Master Nu this time."

 

"Good.  She keeps looking at me like I'm stealing her stuff."  Anakin made a face. 

 

"Padawan, she looks at _everyone_ like that," I said, tousling his hair.  He ducked away from my hand, grinning, and it warmed me to see my Padawan's easy affection.  Of late he seemed to brood more often than smile.  "Come on, then.  Stand up.  There's a clear patch of grass over there that will be perfect for the blade meditation."

 

Anakin's eyes lit up.  "Really?  You're going to show me that?  Wizard!" he exclaimed, then schooled his features back to more appropriate Jedi serenity.  "I mean, that's really neat."

 

"You're never going to be a diplomat, Anakin," I said, unclipping my lightsaber from my belt.  "But I applaud your efforts, regardless."

 

"Yes, Master," he replied, holding his new lightsaber in his right hand.  The previous one had died an inglorious death, lost during an aerial battle on a speederbike last month.  Our missions were nothing if not interesting.

 

I motioned for him to stand a few feet further from me, so the sweeping blades wouldn't come too close to either of us.  "You have watched me demonstrate this before.  What is the basis of it?"

 

His mouth twitched in quickly suppressed irritation at having to answer yet more questions.  "It's meditation based upon movement instead of stillness," he answered.  "The lightsaber blade is the focus, and the Jedi follows the blade."

 

"Very good," I said, and he smiled at the praise.  "Keep paying that kind of attention, and Master Yoda will swat you less."  He snorted, probably thinking that doubtful.  "Now: follow my lead.  We will do it together, slowly.  Then we will do it again at its regular pace."

 

Anakin nodded again, expression turning serious, as he prepared to soak up another lesson.  If he did well with this, I was hoping it would be another step in conquering his fear of using his lightsaber in battle.  He had used the blade in defense several times now, but I knew he hated it, and it was having a terrible affect on his ability to spar with other Jedi. 

 

Anakin followed me in a rough imitation of the moves and patterns that the meditation contained, our lightsabers powered off, as I kept a careful eye on him to make sure he wasn't going to turn his lightsaber the wrong way and score a burn on himself.  We finished in with the final, flowing movement, returning to starting position.  "All right.  Ready?"

 

“Yes, Master Obi-Wan," Anakin said, taking a deep breath.  "I think I can do this." 

 

We ignited our lightsabers and held them straight out before us with one hand.  "Begin."  With that we began the meditation, and Anakin's movements had already become less jerky, more purposeful.  I smiled, his eyes and body following his pale green blade, and before we were a quarter through the mediation I knew that he had it.  I turned my attention back to my own blade, and before I knew it I was lost in the movements, the garden filling with the sound of two lightsabers moving in tandem.  Memories of the times I'd performed this with Qui-Gon surfaced, unbidden.  They were good memories, though, so I let myself enjoy them.  We'd begun the meditation when I was fourteen, and utilized it often in our training regimen.  We'd honed the exercise so much, performed it so flawlessly, that we had started building upon it.  The version I was teaching Anakin was only ten minutes long.  The final result of mine and Qui-Gon's alterations could last over an hour and a half.  While only my Master and I had ever practiced that full version, the delight in Master Yoda's eyes at viewing the entire meditation was something that I always treasured. 

 

The pride that Qui-Gon had held for me, in the joy of that one accomplishment, was a private thing that I shared with no one else.  It was the first time Qui-Gon had begun to see me as an equal.  The affection in his eyes had not merely been for a student growing into his skills.

 

Anakin coughed, and I blinked, realizing that the meditation had ended and I was just standing there, holding a lit lightsaber and staring at nothing.  "Sorry.  Where was I?"

 

"About a million light years away," Anakin said, then shrugged, unconcerned with my drifting.  "Should we do this again?"

 

I shook my head.  "If doing it once made me space out that badly, then I have to say no.  Not today.  But don't worry," I continued, seeing my Padawan's disappointed look.  "We will be doing it again, over and over again.  You will probably get sick of it."

 

"No way," Anakin said, powering down his lightsaber.  "I really liked that." 

 

He reattached his lightsaber to his belt, and I noticed he was biting his lip again.  It was always like this with Anakin.  Sometimes he would go days without saying much, merely watching and following along, and then I would get fifteen revelations, realizations, and lines of thought at once.  "Something wrong, Padawan?" I asked.

 

"No, Master," he said, shaking his head.  "Well... not really.  I..." he gulped audibly.

 

"It can't be that bad," I said, concerned by his sudden nervousness.  "I'm sure I would have heard by now if you've broken something important."

 

After Anakin had adopted every mouse droid in the Temple, fixing them and giving them new programming that drove the quartermaster crazy, it had become something of a joke between us.  This time he didn't even crack a smile.  "I'm just... I've been putting something off, and this morning it happened again."  He rushed on, as if afraid of the words.  "I keep thinking I hear Master Qui-Gon speaking to me.  Am I crazy?"

 

I closed my eyes, soothing away the shock I felt with the Force.  I wasn't surprised that Qui-Gon was still around.  I had never felt him, though.  It felt like a slight, which was ridiculous.

 

Anakin was staring at me in dismay as I opened my eyes and looked at him.  "Ani... you are not crazy.  You are just incredibly strong in the Force.  One of the earliest lessons we ever learn is that the Force is our doorway to many things that most consider impossible."  I sighed.  "It does not surprise me that Qui-Gon might be attempting to look after you, Anakin.  He cared for you very much." 

 

My Padawan was very perceptive.  He looked at me, and I knew he understood what I hadn't said.  "You've never heard him, have you?"

 

"No.  I wish I could say otherwise."  Now it was my turn to hesitate.  "What is it like?"

 

Anakin looked down at the ground, fidgeting in a way that I thought he had outgrown.  "It's like an echo.  Sometimes I can feel him nearby, but it's blurry.  It's like you see something out of the corner of your eye, but there's never anything there when you turn around to look.  I think I hear him whispering to me, and I've used the advice I've heard and it's worked great.  Sometimes he sounds like he's speaking from far away.  Other times it's like he's been right there."  He looked up, his eyes bright with tears.  "I'm sorry, Master."

 

I opened my arms and Anakin stepped forward to accept the hug I offered.  "There is nothing to be sorry for, Padawan," I said, feeling Anakin bury his face in my shoulder.  We stood that way for a moment, and I felt the training bond we shared grow and change.  Trust and acceptance helped it to strengthen, and I realized Anakin and I had finally attained one of the more important steps in our relationship.  "I'm grateful you felt you could talk to me about this, Anakin."

 

"Well, sure," Anakin said, stepping back and wiping his eyes on his sleeves before smiling at me.  "Who else would I tell?"

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I noticed the chrono inset on the Council secretary's desk and smiled.  "Happy birthday, Anakin," I said.  "How's it feel to be fifteen?"

 

My Padawan grunted, his eyes remaining closed.  "Like really bad insomnia, Master.  My birthday present better be twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep."

 

"Then I hope to share in your present," I said, eying the Trandoshan Jedi sitting behind the desk.  "You know, if they don't call us in to give our mission briefing soon, they're going to have to hope that we can talk in our sleep."

 

The Council secretary, Jiaf, gave me a smirk and returned to the report he was working on.  _Jackass_ , I thought, stifling another yawn and leaning against the wall in the antechamber.  Anakin was sound asleep, and I smiled.  I really did envy the boy's ability to sleep anywhere.  In the life of a Jedi, it was a practical and useful talent.  I needed to be lying down, preferably with some sort of pillow, to get any kind of sleep.  I yawned again, not even bothering to hide it, and scratched at the stubble on my face.  If the Council kept us waiting much longer, I was going to see if the polished mosaic floor was comfortable.

 

The doors opened.  I nudged Anakin, who woke up immediately.  "Finally?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

 

"Yes," I said, leading the way into the chamber.  _Just a bit longer.  Then we can both go pass out._

 

 _Hurray,_ Anakin said, following me.  The doors closed behind us, and I winced as bright afternoon sunlight struck my very sensitive eyes.  I refused to whimper in front of the Council, though my eyes felt like they were being stabbed with needles.  Anakin didn't bother with blinking, and shut his eyes.  We bowed to the Council, the movement stiff.  I looked up at the Council, but couldn't focus on any one individual seated before me.  My sight so blurred, I contented myself with hazy doubles of Mace Windu, Master Yoda, and Saesee Tiin.  Realization of the empty seat dragged me a bit more towards the conscious side of the Force.  "Where is Master Mundi?"

 

"He had matters of importance to attend to, and cannot be here," Mace said, and I managed to focus on him a little.  After a moment I realized Mace was looking at us in concern.  "Didn't you sleep on the transport?"

 

I shook my head.  Then, to my chagrin, I caught myself covering another yawn.  So much for self control.  "We shipped back with a group of refugees who are seeking asylum within the Republic," I explained.  "Unfortunately it was two rival groups, and Anakin and I wound up policing the entire lot just to get everyone here in one piece."

 

Mace leaned forward and pinned me with a glare.  "When was the last time the two of you rested?"

 

I thought about it and realized I couldn't remember.  Anakin shrugged.  "On the fifteenth, I guess," he ventured.

 

Master Billaba's voice answered him.  "That was a week ago!" she exclaimed.

 

"Was it?" I smiled.  "I do believe that beats my old record."  One of the Masters seated behind us made a noise that sounded very much like a muffled snicker.  "May we deliver the results of this mission, Masters?" I asked, trying to fight my exhaustion long enough to get this over with.

 

Mace frowned again.  "Actually, I'm considering beating the two of you over the head and sending you to the Healers."

 

The statement was so out of character that my eyes widened.  I was now _very_ awake.  "I'm not going to vote for that."

 

"I abstain," Anakin muttered. 

 

Yoda's ears twitched, and I could feel the tiny Master's amusement.  "Your report you may give.  Then sleep, you may."

 

 _Thank the Force,_ I thought.  I managed to give a tight yet detailed report of the conflict on R'vooshar.  The four factions of that planet had made a mess of things, and we'd dealt with everything from assassination attempts to a new drug's production and adverse affects in the month we'd spent on that damned planet.  I resisted the urge to shake my head as I spoke -  it sounded like I was describing the squabbles of nursery children.  "All four of the groups on R'vooshar have equal shares of the mining rights, but they each wanted the whole continent for themselves.  As such they were unable to divide up the land, as the rights dictate."

 

"How very greedy of them," Adi Gallia murmured.  I managed to turn my head and focus on her long enough to nod in agreement.

 

"We managed to influence a neutral survey group to accompany us to the southern continent.  Anakin and I figured the information they could gather would be useful the next time negotiations commenced.  We were right, and managed to uncover several interesting things."  I blinked, forcing my eyes to focus again.  It was hard to concentrate when Yoda had three heads.  "Both the Zon and the Sarun'da were already mining certain areas, illegally, and the survey crew believed that those locations were the richest for mineral wealth.  We split the survey team up in an effort to map the area more quickly.  Anakin accompanied the crew to the north, and I went with the southern crew.  It was during this time that our actions were noticed.  They were not welcomed, I'm afraid."

 

"They started shooting at you."  Mace said.  It was not a question.  "This is when an incident occurred that we wished to address."

 

I looked Mace, momentarily befuddled.  _Incident?_ I thought, then saw Anakin look at the floor and sigh.  _Oh yes._   "They attacked both our parties separately," I said, and touched Anakin's shoulder.

 

Anakin looked up, realizing that I wanted him to speak of what happened.  "We had set up the computers to geo-scan the ground below," he said quietly,  "when a man came after all of us with a blaster rifle.  High power, even for a sniper-equipped rifle.  But I guess he didn't want to snipe us off, or else knew that the survey crew wasn't armed.  Not with anything to use against a blaster, anyway.  Rocks and shovels can be weapons, but unless you're good at throwing them they aren't much use.  So I deflected the blasts with my lightsaber to give the crew a chance to hide."

 

"The assailant was killed," Saesee said, and Anakin nodded.

 

"I didn't mean to kill him," he said, looking down at the floor, practically radiating discomfort.  "But I was more worried about keeping the blasts I deflected away from the crew.  I'm not... " he swallowed.  "I'm not good enough with a lightsaber yet to focus on more than that."

 

Mace nodded.  "It's not pleasant, is it."

 

Anakin looked up in surprise and met Mace's eyes.  Then he looked at the floor again, shaking his head.  "No, Master Windu.  It's not."

 

Yoda nodded, and I continued.  "My crew in the south was also assaulted, by three men armed as Anakin's assailant was.  Two were killed during the attack, and the third turned his weapon upon himself.  I didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late to stop him."

 

There was a moment of silence from the Council.  "That sounds a little extreme for something as simple as a rights dispute," Mace said, voice hard.

 

Anakin and I looked at each other, surprised.  "You received none of our transmissions after the attack, then?"

 

Yoda shook his head.  "None.  Worried, we were, until the vessel you returned on called to inform us of your arrival."

 

I felt cold.  The way events had unfolded in R'vooshar's council room, I had thought it was simply the final straw.  Now I knew that Anakin and I were never meant to leave that room alive.  Jamming our transmissions had been insurance - with us dead, the R'vooshar could have created any story they wanted to explain things and no one on Coruscant would have known differently.

 

I heard my Padawan swallow, and knew that Anakin had drawn the same conclusion.  "There is much you do not know, then," I said, and told them of the survey crew's discovery - a new mineral that when diluted acted as a powerful narcotic with dangerous properties.  It seemed to react only with the physiologies of the native R'voosharans.

 

"What does this narcotic do to them?" Adi asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

 

"In essence, it increases their innate abilities to an almost supernatural point.  Speed, agility, strength, talents at various crafts.  They can perform at very high speeds, effectively and efficiently.  It is very addicting.  Unfortunately, it also boosts R'voosharan adrenal levels, making them unpredictably violent.  Even worse is when the chemical wears off.  Unless they consume more, they become increasingly destructive, and will lash out with murderous intent at anything that moves.  It is proving difficult to come up with a safe detoxification program for those who become addicted."

 

"So if we had not gotten involved at this date, we would not have had a simple escalation on our hands," Mace said, steepling his fingers and regarding us thoughtfully.  "That would have been all-out war."

 

"We believe so, Masters.  We returned, with all of the data that the survey crew had collected, and met in the R’vooshar council chamber to reveal this information to the four parties.  The crew had also taken the liberty of dividing the continent accurately into four parts, dividing the mineral wealth almost perfectly.  The fourth faction, the Sarun'da, took great offense at that."

 

"Naturally," Saesee said quietly.  "I doubt they were very happy with the two of you."

 

"A battle broke out in the chamber, Masters."

 

"So we went into aggressive negotiations," Anakin explained.

 

Yoda's ears twitched.  "Which is?"

 

I laced my hands behind my back, keeping my expression as neutral as possible.  "Negotiations with a lightsaber, Masters."

 

There was that muffled snicker again.  I was beginning to suspect that it was Master Yaddle.  "When it was over, we had several wounded and several bodies to deal with.  The Sarun'da were subdued, and agreed to the new mining borders.  The four factions signed an agreement with the Guild, and Anakin and I arranged for our departure." 

 

The Council accepted this shortened version of events.  "Thank you.  Appreciate your report, the Council does," Yoda said, nodding at us both.

 

"Thank you, Masters," Anakin and I both replied.  Then I yawned again, and I had no time to hide it.  It seemed to signify something to my body, and I realized that I had nothing left.  The last breath of energy I had was gone, and I knew I was going to be lucky to get back to our quarters before sleep took over.

 

Fortunately the Council had realized this as well.  Mace nodded at us.  "Go and rest.  We'll discuss this matter in greater detail later."  Then he smiled, and I found myself shocked by the man twice in one day.  "The two of you did very well."

 

We bowed together, exchanging bewildered looks, before taking leave of the Council chamber.  I walked as quickly as possible for the lift.  Anakin hurried along beside me, both of us trying to get home before we wound up sleeping in the hall.  We ducked inside the empty lift, and I slumped against the wall in relief after the doors closed.  "Thirteenth level," I instructed the computer, then looked at Anakin.

 

"Master, what happened in there?" Anakin said, looking confused.  "Did they just tell us we did a good job?  No beating around the bush, no 'will of the Force' stuff?"

 

"Apparently," I said, and despite my exhaustion, I felt a delighted smile cross my face.  We had worked hard for over five years to earn that praise.  It wasn't something I needed to hear, but I knew how much it meant to Anakin.  "Yes they did."

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

Master Gallia found Anakin and I in one of the training salles, greeting me with a warm smile.  "What, no headdress today, Master?" I teased, catching sight of the short-cropped dark hair she usually kept hidden.

 

She smiled and waved to Anakin, who was busy dodging two training remotes, then turned back to me with an annoyed look.  "No, Knight Kenobi.  I'm supposed to visit home soon, a nice little event that blends family and politics.  I have two weeks to convince my hair to grow before my mother sees it and harasses me for a month because I cut it all off."

 

"She sounds like an... interesting person," I hedged.

 

"Interesting?" Adi sighed, lips quirking in a smile.  "I am a Jedi Master serving on the Jedi Council.  I have two wars, several dozen diplomatic successes, and numerous minor skirmishes on my record, but all I hear when I see my parents is that I should be more like my sisters."

 

I couldn't help but grin.  "Didn't your elder sister just get caught having an affair with a married ambassador?  And the next eldest seems to be mowing her way through the entire Nubian grav-ball team?"

 

"Yes," Adi grinned back.  "I think they're saying that I'm boring."

 

"Riiiight," I said, out of the corner of my eye witnessing the moment when Anakin managed to bisect the first remote with his lightsaber.  "Good job, Anakin!"

 

He grinned and doggedly pursued the second remote.  His skills had improved so much in the past year that I could hardly believe this was the same Padawan who once could barely stand to use his lightsaber in combat.  "He's doing wonderfully," Adi said, giving the Padawan a congratulatory nod.  "You should see how he takes to the Jar'Kai."

 

"Two-bladed combat?" I mused, considering it.  It might just be the step Anakin needed to get over his hesitation with lightsaber dueling.  My Padawan loved a challenge just as much as I did.  "I think that's an excellent idea.  I'll have to see if Master Drallig is available at some point."  I had always been good at defending against the Jar'Kai, but performing it was beyond me.  Anakin, however, would probably be the perfect candidate to learn it.  With his crash course apprenticeship, we hadn't focused on any one of the Forms, and he tended to use a devastating blend of the first five with hints of the sixth.  It had forced me to adopt all of the knowledge of the first five forms just to keep up with him, not to mention find a tutor for the sixth.  My only regret was that Master Giett was long dead - he'd been the best in the sixth, aside from Master Yoda, and Yoda was insanely busy of late.  "I'd have loved to have Master Giett show him the Eleventh Form."

 

"That insane creation of Mic's?"  Adi raised an eyebrow.  "He could never con anyone into trying it."

 

"I tried it," I admitted.  That had been a humbling experience.  "It was like trying to put on my tunics backwards while hopping up and down and trying not to fall over because my boots were on backwards, too."

 

"See?" Adi winced.  "That's exactly why I never tried it.  My aptitude for learning new things only stretches so far.  You'll have to let me know how the Jar'Kai idea goes.  I heard Cin is busy getting his Padawan ready for the Trials.  You might be able to grab some time with him after that's done with."

 

"Serra?" I shook my head, amazed that she was coming to Knighthood so soon.  "Times flies when you're being shot at."

 

Adi grinned.  "Indeed it does, Obi-Wan.  Speaking of which, I am here to let you know of something that concerns the Council."

 

That caught my interest.  "What would that be, Adi?" I asked, hoping it wasn't another instance of paranoia regarding Anakin's training.  My Padawan excelling beyond all expectations seemed to be giving the Council a collective fit.

 

Adi crossed her arms, her expression turning serious.  "There are rumors that several star systems plan to withdraw from the Republic."

 

“Withdraw?!" I mouthed in surprise, my voice gone in light of such an outrageous concept.  I coughed and tried again.  "Withdraw?  What—"

 

She held up her hands.  "So far this remains rumor.  No star system has publicly announced an intention to leave the Republic.  But the Council fears that will change, and that time is coming soon.  You and Anakin are quickly becoming one of our most prominent teams.  We would like you to keep your ears and eyes open.  If it is possible to discover which systems are considering an action like this, we may be able to work with them before their decision is finalized."

 

I frowned.  "Adi... I would almost say that I wouldn't blame them.  Despite the Chancellor's methods, the Senate is becoming mired in their own corrupt politics.  It's hard for the newer members to get aid for simple problems, much less Jedi intervention."

 

"Nonetheless, I will still ask you to make the attempt."  Adi ran her hand through her short hair and gave me a wry smile.  "There are some of us who fear that this could lead to conflict on a vast scale.  The Hyperspace Wars will look tame in comparison."

 

I didn't like the sound of that.  "We will do as you ask, of course, Master Gallia," I said, giving her a formal bow.  She smiled and returned it.

 

She strode away, and I turned my attention back to my Padawan just in time to see him take out the second remote.  He grinned in triumph, and I smiled back and walked towards him, deciding to see if my Padawan was up to sparring his Master.

 

It was better to focus on that than on the horrible feeling Adi Gallia's news left me with.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

"The Chancellor spoke to us this morning to ask a favor of the Jedi, in a matter most urgent," Mace Windu intoned, his fingers steepled together as he leaned forward in his chair.  Long exposure had taught me to interpret that gesture for what it was.  The Jedi Master didn't adopt that posture unless something disturbed him greatly.

 

"Urgent?" I repeated, glancing at Anakin, who shrugged.  We'd been in the Chancellor's company often enough of late that it was a surprise to hear news like this from the Council first, for a change.  I really disliked spending that much time in Palpatine's presence, even though he was ever polite, and always kind to Anakin.  He was a politician, with a politician's motivations, yet even I had to admit that his use for Anakin and I had always been altruistic.  I still didn't trust him, though, and I chafed at the fact that I had no good reason for that.  "What is the situation, Masters?"

 

"A diplomatic one, though not an entanglement that involve us directly," Mace replied, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.  I'd had enough of diplomatic engagements already this year, even though the Senate's elbow-rubbing season had barely begun.  "A special session of the Senate has been called regarding the secession of Sullust, Bimmisaari, and Falleen, otherwise the Chancellor would have spoken with you personally."

 

My eyes widened.  I'd known about Sullust and Falleen, but Bimmisaari was a surprise.  The Bimm had always been staunch allies of the Jedi.  "That doesn't bode well."

 

 "No, it doesn't bode well," Shaak Tii said from a few seats away.  "In fact, the entire thing stinks."  The Togrutan Jedi Master had been asked to fill Master Yaddle's position on the Jedi Council after her death at Granta Omega's hands, and both occurrences were fresh enough that it was still odd to see Shaak Tii here.  "We're hearing whispers that half of that damned quadrant has already left the Republic and just hasn't bothered to let anyone else know."  Mace gave Shaak a stern glare, as if to tell her to stop being so forward, which Shaak Tii politely ignored.  More and more I was pleased with her placement on the Council.  It was good to hear a no-nonsense voice in this room again, someone who hadn't already become mired in the political muck that went on between the Council and the Senate.

 

Anakin watched the exchange and then spoke up.  "Masters, it sounds as if this is a personal favor," he ventured.

 

Master Yoda's ears twitched.  Yoda was quite displeased about something, also.  I filed that information away for later.  Either we would be told, or I'd figure it out on my own time.

 

"Very likely, but it is of importance," Mace continued, and there was a hint of a frown on his face.  Oh yes - they were definitely not happy.  "He requested you and your Padawan specifically, even if it meant pulling the two of you from your current projects."

 

That explained some of their irritation.  "Should we be flattered or worried?"

 

"Neither," Yoda said curtly, and I hid a smile.  Anakin looked down at the floor, not quite able to keep his own smile at bay but at least trying to be subtle.

 

"You know of Senator Simon Greyshade?" Shaak Tii asked, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair.  Anakin and I both nodded.  At one of those damnable Senate functions, I'd even had the opportunity to play Sabaac with the man.  Skilled at the game, but not too skilled about hiding his reactions to the cards.  "He has recently taken the position in the Commonality seat, after his cousin Jheramahd was assassinated."

 

Anakin winced, and I nodded again.  "Yes, we... heard about that."  The previous Commonality Senator had been tossed off the roof of the Senate dome.  "There were theories that his death were meant to stall the passage of the Financial Reform Act."

 

"He's run off," Ki Adi spoke up, and even the normally unflappable Cerean looked frustrated.  "It seems he found out more information than even Jheramahd had uncovered and panicked.  The Chancellor wants this man found before Jheramahd's assassin takes out another member of the Greyshade family.  Also, with a direct witness and evidence, the Act could be pushed through, thus putting a tourniquet on some of the Republic's unfortunate matters."

 

"Publicly, that would be quite an accomplishment," I mused.  It was brilliant, if all of us could pull it off.  If the financial reforms carried, it would give struggling planets some of their voices back, and maybe put a hold on the rush of worlds fleeing Republic membership.

 

"Irrelevant the politics are," Yoda said, frowning.  "Found he must be, for in danger his life is."

 

Anakin and I glanced at each other and bowed to the partly assembled Council.  "We will find him, Masters," I said.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I tucked my hands into the sleeves of my robe, grinning and not caring who noticed.  Anakin had finally done it.  He'd stopped trying to fight against the Force when using his lightsaber, and the results had been spectacular.  He'd made short work of a Padawan, Rico, that had been harassing him for months.  He'd done it with the skill and poise of a Jedi.  Now he was standing with a group of Padawans his age, and they all wanted the opportunity to spar with my Padawan.  I let out a relieved, pleased sigh.  That new inclusion was going to go so far to healing those early wounds.

 

Master Windu stepped up beside me, sporting an annoyed glare.  "What in the Force did you tell that boy?" he demanded.

 

I turned and regarded him with my most serene expression.  It wasn't very often that I got the chance to push Mace Windu's buttons.  "Whatever do you mean?"

 

"We're not in the Council chamber, Obi-Wan," Mace retorted, crossing his arms.  "You don't have to bait me out here."

 

I grinned.  "I only told him to relax."

 

He looked at me in utter disbelief.  "That's all."

 

"Well," I said, my tone considering.  "I did tell him something about listening to himself.  But nothing more than that, really."  I smiled at Mace's disgruntled expression.

 

"That boy has lost every sparring match he's ever participated in.  Today he was losing just as badly until you spoke to him, and then he turns around and becomes a master duelist, defeating one of the most skilled Padawans to ever hold a lightsaber, and I'm supposed to believe you when you say you just told him to relax?" 

 

I paused, then nodded.  "That's right," I said, hiding another grin.  Anakin and I had been working steadily for this day for seven years.  I was damned if I wasn't going to enjoy it.

 

Mace shook his head.  "Incredible," he said, looking across the sparring arena at Anakin.  My Padawan was basking in the sudden attention, and for now I was content to let him.  He'd earned it.  "When the two of you return from Alderaan, tell him I wouldn't mind a match, myself."

 

"From what I'm seeing, Master Windu, you may have to wait in line," I couldn't resist adding.

 

"A Jedi is ever patient, Master Kenobi," he said, resting his hand on my shoulder for a moment before walking away.

 

I went to rejoin Anakin, helping to untangle him from a gaggle of animated Padawans.  We were on the transport to Alderaan and in hyperspace before my brain registered the new title by which Mace had addressed me.  Even then, I was certain I must have misheard him.  Either that, or Mace had gone senile. 

 

 

 

"You made it!" Bail exclaimed, reaching out to pull me into a strong embrace.  I grinned and hugged him back, glad to see him so happy.

 

"Of course we made it," I retorted, stepping back as Bail subjected my bemused Padawan to the same treatment.  "You turned it into a diplomatic invitation instead of a personal one, so of course the Council would honor it.  Sly bastard."

 

"I've been practicing.  Considering that I'm about to become senior representative for Alderaan in the Senate, not to mention Viceroy..." he trailed off, looking pensive.

 

Anakin and I looked at each other, sharing a mutual glance of concern.  Anakin had studied enough Galactic politics at this point to know, as I did, that Bail Organa was about to be buried by responsibilities.

 

Bail noticed our glance and rolled his eyes.  "I'm not dead yet, you two.  Come on.  We don't even have to do anything diplomatic until the day of the ceremony, and even that's so damned simple all you need to do is read a datapad to know where to stand.  You don't even have a speaking role."

 

My outlook on Bail Organa's wedding lightened considerably.  "So we just get to stand around and look ornamental again?"  I did so love Alderaan's slack when it came to this sort of pomp and circumstance.

 

Bail nodded, and Anakin looked happier about our presence, also.  "Well, you'll have to put up with Master C'baoth.  I understand it's his last major role in Republic space before his pet project departs."

 

Outbound Flight.  I briefly closed my eyes against the headache that wanted to settle in at that thought.  I was notlooking forward to spending two months on the same ship with Jorus C'baoth.  In the last year that man had become insufferable.  Worse, Anakin was starting to idolize him.  It gave me complications that I did _not_ want to have to deal with, but I was given little choice in the matter.  "Yes, we know about it.  We're to accompany him to Roxuli before the flight leaves the known systems."

 

Bail was enough of a politician that he did not voice the immediate suspicions I knew that statement would bring.  The roster for Outbound Flight had been established for a full year.  "Well, that should be interesting," he said, tone mild, and then turned to Anakin.  "Speaking of interesting: your Master tells me you have a great curiosity in the newly revamped twin ion engines from Seinar Tech."

 

My friend couldn't have stumbled upon a faster way to get Anakin's undivided attention.  "Yes, Senator," he said, nodding eagerly, his eyes flashing with interest.  "You can see some of Seinar's works on Coruscant, but we really don't have the opportunity to study them closely."

 

I gave Bail a suspicious look.  "Tell me, soon-to-be Viceroy, did you pilfer the treasury of Alderaan?"

 

 "Oh, indeed I did," Bail practically crowed.  "I even justified it by telling all of those wonderful committees that I needed a way to traverse the distance from Alderaan to Coruscant and back as quickly as possible, the better to keep up with all of my myriad responsibilities.  And you," he said, turning to look up at Anakin, "are being graced with the task to shake her out.  The helm of the _Azarael_ is yours."

 

Anakin boggled openly at Bail.  I considered doing much the same.  "Bail, what are you planning?"

 

Bail grinned.  "I'm going to escape from this frippery-based insanity for a few days, and the two of you, as my personal bodyguard sent to make sure no one tries to assassinate me during this affair, are going to accompany me."

 

Anakin looked fascinated.  "That sounds better than standing around and being ornamental.  Where are we accompanying you, Senator?"

 

"We're going to Corellia," said Bail, not bothering to hide a smug grin.

 

"Corellia."  I thought about it.  There were worse places Bail could have chosen to go.  "I suppose we can keep you from getting into too much trouble," I said finally, smiling.  A trip to Corellia that didn't involve an investigation into criminal activity sounded nice, really.

 

"Good," Bail said.  "Because I was going, regardless.  I need to get out of here before they try to get me to wear robes with a train longer than my fiancé's wedding dress."  He shuddered.  "My sisters are evil, demented beings."

 

 

 

 The _Azarael_ was a fast ship, well-worth the credits Bail had drained from the Alderaanian treasury.  With such a good sub-light/lightspeed rating, we were on Corellia in twenty-four hours.  I had to talk Anakin out of extending the trip just because of the time we'd saved.  "I'd rather spend the time on the planet, not watching you flirt with the Maw," I'd told him sternly.

 

 Bail led us down the _Azarael's_ boarding ramp, grinning over his shoulder at us.  "I arranged for a friend to meet us."

 

"Oh?" I hadn't realized that Bail Organa had friends on Corellia.  Then I saw who was meeting us and shook my head, gazing with a smile at the man below dressed in brown leather pants and open-collared black shirt.  He sported no weapon other than a wide, sardonic grin. "Master Halcyon." 

 

"Obi-Wan Kenobi!  Welcome back to my planet!" he said, giving me a sweeping bow.  I rolled my eyes.  Nejaa Halcyon acted more like a smuggler and a rogue than a Jedi Master.  The Corellian was a favorite among his people, refusing to spend time locked away in a Temple.  His Mastery of the Force could have earned him a place on the Council, but Nejaa would never accept such a position.

 

Nejaa smiled at me, his brandy-brown eyes flashing with good humor, before turning his attention to Anakin.  "And hey, it's that brilliant Padawan of yours!  Greetings, Padawan Skywalker."

 

Anakin grinned back.  "Hi, Master Nejaa.  You're getting scruffy-looking."

 

Nejaa pouted at us, brushing a hand through his shaggy blond hair.  "I am never scruffy looking.  I maintain an air of rough beauty.  Women love it."

 

"Yes, well, as none of us are women, your charms are being aimed in the wrong direction," Bail said smoothly, taking Nejaa's offered arm.  "I'm getting married in two days, and you promised me a bar."  Bail paused, giving Nejaa a pointed stare.  "A _good_ bar."

 

Anakin paused mid-step.  "Aw, dammit!" he said, glaring at Bail and Nejaa.  "I'm going to wind up the designated pilot again, aren't I?" 

 

I'd already taught Anakin what liquors were safe for humans to imbibe, and how to filter alcohols and toxins with the Force.  Unless it was absolutely necessary, though, he wasn't allowed to drink until he was of age on whatever world we were on.  So far, he preferred it that way.  I grinned and escorted my Padawan down to join the others, allowing Bail to secure the ship behind us by remote.  "Padawan, if you think I'm going to pass up the opportunity to have Corellian brandy directly from the source, you're out of your mind."

 

"Gods, Master," Anakin said, rolling his eyes.  "You're such a lush."

 

"I don't know what that means," I said, amused.  "But it's probably true."

 

"I couldn't resist meeting you two and Bail here," Nejaa was saying.  "After the fun we had last time..."

 

I glared at him.  "That was not fun."

 

Nejaa laughed.  "I'll grant you that, but it was unusual.  I mean, how often do you get to fish someone out of an entire crate of glitterstim?" 

 

I sighed while Bail hid a grin.  "I am never going to live that down, am I?" That particular mission had been about an arms deal, but we'd disrupted one of Jabba the Hutt's spice rings instead.  I'd nearly lost my mind in the process, from falling into the aforementioned spice.  Bail had been part of our investigation committee, joining myself, Depa, Anakin, and Nejaa.  Anakin had saved my life that day, because none of the rest of us knew what to do in the case of extreme spice overdoses.  Learning I was allergic to spice had just been the warped topper on a foul cake.

 

"Come on, Master Obi-Wan," Anakin said, taking pity on me.  "No complaints.  Since he brought it up, Master Nejaa should provide free brandy."

 

Nejaa gave my Padawan a shocked look.  "I didn't agree to any such thing."

 

Bail gave Nejaa a thoughtful look.  "Now, see, I agree with Anakin.  You're the one who shoved Obi-Wan off the catwalk for him to land in that crate, after all."

 

Nejaa looked around at the three of us, and I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow in silent challenge.  The Corellian threw back his head and laughed.  "All right, I give up!  One bottle of brandy for one spice bath."

 

 

After a few hours of hanging out in an abysmal place called the _Rusty Falcon_ , I was enjoying a light buzz and the feel of Bail gnawing on my collarbone.  I looked around the dark alley and shook my head.  "Bail, you're getting married in three days," I felt the need to point out, though I really didn't want him to stop what he was doing.

 

"Mmmhmm," Bail said, and licked the spot he'd just bitten, and my insides seized, my eyes rolling back.  _Guh_.  He'd remembered.

 

"Married.  Three days," I repeated, grabbing his shoulder just enough to catch his attention.  "Remember?"

 

Bail was annoyed by the interruption.  "Yes, I remember.  And the entire reason that my marriage to Breha Antilles will succeed is that my future wife doesn't mind that I prefer to spend much of my time with the masculine rather than the feminine.  She lets me have my moments, and I am fully attentive to her in return, when she wishes it."

 

"Oh."  I let that sink in.  It wouldn't be the first time that couples in political marriages made such arrangements.  "All right.  But let's find a room.  I am not having sex next to a garbage bin."

 

Bail laughed.  "We'll just go back to the ship. I told Nejaa to take Anakin swoop-racing."

 

I groaned, from frustration and from the fact that Bail had just shoved his hand into my pants.  "Don't worry - it's legal here," Bail said, squeezing my cock with nimble, talented fingers.

 

I shoved him away, grinning.  "Ship, dammit.  Not the alley."

 

"Aren't Jedi supposed to be open to new experiences?" he said, leering at me in a way that told me the double entendre was on purpose.

 

A whisper of apprehension struck me, and I shook my head.  "Not in alleys," I said, grabbing Bail's hand and dragging him in the direction of the spaceport.  "I'm rather fond of beds."  Or walls.  Or kitchens.  Or 'freshers.  As long as it wasn't a damned alley.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I woke up to find us out of hyperspace, in orbit around Romin, with Anakin adjusting course to align our ship with the one piloted by Siri and Ferus Olin, her Padawan.  "Ew," I commented, taking in the sight of the dull brown ball before us.

 

"Something wrong, Master?" Anakin said, grinning. 

 

"Looks like a pit.  I'll bet the company is just as entertaining."  I sighed and looked at Anakin, knowing this mission was going to be as distasteful as the planet's appearance.  I was getting damned tired of tracking Jenna Zan Arbor across the entire known galaxy.  It didn't help that the rivalry between Anakin and Ferus showed no sign of letting up.  If I didn't think that Anakin needed to learn how to work with other Jedi, _now_ , I wouldn't push him so hard.  If the two daft gits managed to see past their own insecurities sometime soon, they'd make a wonderful working pair upon their Knighthoods.  Siri agreed with me, though sometimes I suspected she was only willing to hang around so much because she was still trying to get into my pants.

 

"Where should we begin our hunt, Master?" Anakin asked, getting down to business more quickly than usual.  Part of it was trying to make sure I wasn't going to rain fire down on him again for his impatience, and part of it was because he was trying to show up the other Padawan.  For now, though, I could let his desire to be efficient work in our favor.

 

"The major port of call is Tinadal.  Let's start there and set up shop with our new identities."  I touched my beard with my fingers and tried not to whimper.  I hadn't shaved in at least five years.  Taking off a full beard was a prospect I wasn't looking forward to, but I was far too recognizable with it.  "You get us lined up and get a hangar bay as close to Siri and Ferus as possible.  I'll be removing a lot of hair."

 

Anakin raised an eyebrow.  "Don't let Master Siri hear you whimper, Master.  I think she'd take it as a challenge."

 

I snorted.  "Don't worry, Padawan.  I've been keeping Siri Tachi at bay almost as long as you've been alive."

 

I left the cockpit to the sound of him swallowing his next comment to speak to the port master through the comm.  The timing on that call couldn't have been better.

 

 

I threw enough hair into the recycler to make a baby Ewok, then glanced into the mirror.  "Hello there, you," I spoke to my reflection, feeling more nostalgic than I'd expected to.  I'd grown the beard out of a mix of laziness and deception to hide my true age, and to be without it again was almost unsettling.  It shaved years off of my appearance, taking me from my actual age of twenty-seven to someone who looked to barely be approaching legal, unless you looked closely.  I leaned in closer, noticing the tell-tale lines of old grief around my eyes.  My eyes, at least, looked like they belonged to an experienced Jedi Knight.  Or in this case, an experienced Seeker.

 

When I emerged from the 'fresher, I found Anakin already dressed in the leather pants and half-jacket to mark our chosen undercover profession.  His braid was pinned to wrap around the back of his head to match a style some of the younger crowds on Coruscant had adopted of late.  It was a brilliant way to hide a telltale sign that screamed Jedi Padawan.  He turned to look at me, stopped in the midst of what he was doing, and stared at me.  "Sith, Master, no wonder you never shave."

 

I felt a moment of discomfort.  "What, is my face that offensive?"

 

"Well... no Master," he said, stumbling over his words.  "It's just that you look younger than I do right now."

 

I laughed.  "Well, that should certainly stop people from thinking about our resemblances to Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker."

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, probably trying to scratch at his braid without yanking it out of place.  "Either that or they'll think I'm Master Kenobi, since I'm taller."

 

"Not a chance," I said, mock-sniffing.  "You're not pretty enough."

 

He burst out laughing, and I grinned.  It was the first genuine laugh I'd gotten out of my Padawan in several months.  I pulled a long tan burnoose over my head, and the coarse material fell nearly to my knees in the front and back, but the sides were high enough that I had easy access to my lightsaber and other equipment, if needed.  I pulled the burnoose's hood over my eyes and then placed my hands on my hips.  "Well, how do I look?"

 

Anakin gave the outfit a critical look, then grinned again.  "Like a moisture farmer with a hangover."

 

"Ah yes," I said, smirking.  "Exactly the look I was going for."

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I was sitting at our kitchen's small table, sipping on tea and trying to convince my grumbling body that toast was good for it when Anakin stumbled out of his room, still yawning.  I took a moment to observe that his sleep pants were now several inches above his ankles and made a mental note to drag Anakin down to stores and find him clothing that fit.  Again. "Morning," I said.

 

Anakin said something that might have been hello and sat down in the seat next to me, finding the caff pot I'd kindly sat out for him with one questing hand.  With that he picked it up and drank straight from it.

 

"There are cups for that," I decided to point out.

 

Anakin grunted, poured caff into a cup, and then drank straight from the carafe again anyway.  I shook my head and smiled.  "That's what you get for letting Garen take you drinking, Padawan."

 

"Muuhhhgh," Anakin groaned, and let his head drop onto the table with a thunk.  Thank the Force I hadn't set a plate out for him yet, because he would have landed in it. 

 

"Want some food?" I asked, feeling merciless.  I could have gone with them last night, but Anakin and Garen had deserved some time to speak Pilot at each other.  Of course, my evening to myself had been interrupted by Mace and Depa badgering me into sitting in on last night's Council meeting, reviewing the new long list of planets that had ditched the Republic.  Their insistence probably had something to do with the fact that I'd accurately predicted the defection of over three-quarters of the list. 

 

"Muuuughh!" Anakin said, after a long moment wherein he probably made the mistake of debating the notion. 

 

"I'm not the one hung over," I chortled.  Lording sobriety over your Padawan was one of the perks of being the Master.  "You should plan on getting sober sometime within the next hour.  Your friend the Chancellor is asking us to mediate one of the committees today."  I had to admit that the very thought was enough to make me wonder if Garen would be up for a second round tonight.  I was really starting to hate politics.  Maybe we'd get lucky and the Council would tell us we were up for a mission instead.

 

That got Anakin's attention enough that he glanced up at me with baggy red eyes and an ill-looking demeanor.  "Master, you're a bad man, but Garen is pure evil."

 

I laughed.  "Yes he is, but he's the one being smart and filtering the remains of the alcohol from his system."

 

Anakin blinked at me and groaned again.  "Oh, man. I forgot."  He shut his eyes and I could feel the Force come to my Padawan's call.  Within a few moments he looked better.  "Okay, now I'm not going to throw up if you show me food," he said, and I pointed towards the counter, where hot food waited on a warmer.

 

I was quite positive my Padawan had just learned the only lesson he would ever need on the subject of overindulgence.  At the very least he'd remember to filter the alcohol next time.  I turned my attention back to my datapad as Anakin moved about our small kitchen with an occasional derogatory mutter about evil sunlight.  I was studying Huttese today, since the language was on the fast-track to becoming one of the primary trade languages throughout the Outer Rim.  One phrase in particular caught my eye, and without much thought I said it out loud.

 

Anakin's plate clattered, and I looked up to find him giving me a horrified look.  "That's disgusting!"

 

I grinned.  "Isn't it?  I do believe I like that one."  There were benefits to getting my language courses from Dex— he always made sure the colorful was included.

 

Anakin shook his head.  "Just don't use that on a Barabel, Master," he said, picking his plate back up to collect more food.  I was starting to wonder if my Padawan was ever going to cease eating like a starving Wookiee.  Not even being hung over had staved off his appetite for very long.  "I think that'd be grounds for a blood match."

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****   

 

 

"That's incredible," Kimal murmured, watching as Anakin assembled his lightsaber with fierce concentration but minimal effort.  It was Anakin's fifth or sixth lightsaber by now, and even I was growing tired of repeating myself in regards to Anakin keeping an eye on his weapon.  If I didn't know better, I would think that he lost them just so he would be able to have the joy of building another.

 

"It is," I replied.  All grumbling aside, I did love to watch my Padawan tinker.  The way that Anakin drew parallels of understanding in machinery on nothing but instinct and the Force was always fascinating.

 

"I've been lording over this domain for a long time, Obi-Wan," Kimal said, shaking his head.  "I've never seen that kind of _understanding_." 

 

"He has been a joy to teach," I said, though there was much I did not say.  Sometimes Anakin's abilities confounded me, or startled me.  He was developing an intense, focused stare that seemed to eat through walls and minds, and it was disconcerting of late when I'd found him turning that stare upon me.

 

"Brilliant," Kimal said, watching Anakin make fine adjustments on one of his lightsaber crystals.  He'd started building multi-crystal blades last year, doing so with comfort and ease.  That was a type of lightsaber even I hadn't built yet, though it no longer made me feel like my teeth were vibrating to use one.

 

"Yes, he is brilliant, and talented, and..." I hesitated to speak.  Anakin wouldn't notice, too wrapped up in what he was doing, but that wasn't the only reason I felt reticent. 

 

Kimal turned back towards me, as if sensing my difficulty.  "Come with me, Obi-Wan," he said, leading me past several tables, most of them filled with Jedi working on their own lightsabers.  "Speak," Kimal said, settling us into the small room he'd turned into a cramped but comfortable office.

 

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.  "He is becoming arrogant.  Make no mistake, he has enjoyed many successes, but there have been failures.  I worry that reminding him of these failures is the wrong thing to do, and yet when I do mention them, he seems unswayed by them."  I was struggling to put into words my own concerns, many of them so damned nebulous that it felt silly to even speak of them aloud.  "I'm struggling to find a balance here, Kimal."

 

Kimal gave me a look of sympathy, drumming his long fingers on his desk.  "Teaching a Padawan to have confidence in their abilities while remaining humble is always a difficult prospect, Obi-Wan.  I have trained two Padawans now, and still I second-guess myself."

 

I dipped my head in recognition of that.  "I feel as if I'm fighting an uphill battle.  In skill alone, he could already have been a Jedi Knight.  There is no question of him being capable of using the Force.  But..."

 

"But you find him lacking in other areas," Kimal finished for me.  I nodded in response.  That was putting it mildly.  "Remember, Obi-Wan, that while Anakin may be nineteen standard, he has only spent nine years of life among the Jedi.  He has missed ten years of influence.  While you were quite ready to be a Knight at his age-" I snorted my opinion of that, and Kimal rolled his eyes.  "--he is probably still several years away from that.  Your concerns are valid, my friend, but I fear you may be worrying too soon."

 

"My Padawan could shut down a sun if he thought about it hard enough, Kimal!" I snapped, all of my concerns flaring at once.  I sat back in my chair, shaking my head.  "Forgive me.  I just don't want to discover that I began to worry too late."

 

Kimal picked up a crystal from the random collection of stones on his desk, rolling it along his fingers with practiced ease.  "Do you think he'd actually try to do that?"

 

"Honestly?"  I thought about Anakin's long-standing attitude towards his own abilities.  "I rather doubt it would ever occur to him to try.  On one hand he recognizes his great strength in the Force, but on the other hand, he seems to not know how to utilize most of it."  I shrugged, feeling useless. "That is something that I do not know how to teach him."

 

The Arconan put the crystal down, placing his hands together and resting his elbows on his desk.  He gazed at me with an expression more serious than I had ever seen.  "Obi-Wan, you have done what most Jedi Masters in the Order thought impossible.  You took a boy that everyone believed could _not_ learn this lifestyle and turned him into an exemplary Jedi Padawan.  Yes, there are concerns, but none of us have ever trained a Padawan that we did _not_ have concerns about.  In Anakin, my friend, you have done a remarkable thing.  I truly believe that if you continue to instruct him in the same manner you have used for the last nine years, Anakin Skywalker will be a great Jedi Knight."

 

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I breathed in cool night air, filled with the familiar, myriad smells of Coruscant.  More and more often, we were never home.  The Separatists had made free time for myself and Anakin a thing of the past. 

 

I sat on my traditional perch on the railing of our balcony, watching the lights of Coruscant, and tried not to brood.  I'd come out here to relax, not think dark thoughts about the fact that almost one quarter of the Republic had joined the Separatist movement. 

 

I looked up, taking in the familiar view of light-diffused cloud cover that made up Coruscant's night sky.  This was probably the wrong place to sit if I was trying to relax.  I couldn't be out here without remembering each and every time I'd sat out here with Qui-Gon, perched next to him on the railing and trying not to think about how far it was to fall if I wasn't careful.  _I miss you, Master.  Always and ever.  I wish I could hear you._   I took a deep breath, letting it out, keeping the hollow pain in my chest under control.  _I'd even settle for a dream.  Just one.  Something to make me feel like ... like..._   I shook my head at myself.  Like what?  Like I wasn't watching the universe spin out of control?

 

"Master?" Anakin stepped out onto the balcony, wincing as a gust of wind caught him by surprise.  He still didn't care much for the cold.

 

"I thought you'd have been out with the others by now," I said, that same gust of wind blowing my hair over my eyes.  I pinned my hair back behind my ears and sternly told it to stay.

 

Anakin shrugged.  "Nobody's really here.  Everyone's out trying to keep other planets from ditching us, I guess."  He stepped forward, resting his hands on the balcony and slumping forward against the rails.  "The last year's been intense, Master.  You think it'll let up any time soon?"

 

"Padawan, I hate to say it, but I think things are going to get a hell of a lot worse before they get better.  At this point?"  I shrugged.  "Someone is out there convincing a lot of people that they'd be better off without the Republic, and unless we find out who that is..."

 

Anakin drew his eyebrows together, his normally bright blue eyes dark with worry.  "Do you think it's the Sith?"

 

It wasn't the first time I'd considered the possibility, and knew others were thinking the same.  "I wouldn't be surprised if the Sith Lord was taking advantage of a bad situation."  That left me with even more material for brooding; ten years, and all we knew was that I'd killed a Sith's Apprentice.  A Sith Lord of unknown ability roamed the galaxy, and the Republic was falling apart.  Those two thoughts alone were enough to have me grinding my teeth in frustration.  Some problems were just too blasted big.

 

We were quiet for a few minutes.  "Master, was I ... interrupting anything?" Anakin asked, looking hesitant.  "I mean, I know you were expecting me to be gone for the night."

 

"No, Anakin.  You weren't interrupting anything," I replied, hoping he would stay.  "I was just... remembering."

 

"Oh.  About Master Qui-Gon?"

 

I could only give Anakin a wry smile.  My perceptive Padawan.  If he continued along this path, he wouldn't be my Padawan for much longer.  Much had changed in the last year, and despite the chaos in the galaxy, Anakin had thrived.  Perhaps it would be better to say that Anakin had thrived _because_ of it.

 

"Yeah.  I thought so.  You always come out here to brood, Master, and generally when you brood, you're thinking about him."  Anakin flexed his hands on the railing, staring off in the direction of the Senate dome.  "It never gets any easier, does it?  To lose someone like that."

 

I could only wonder at what Anakin was thinking.  "No, Anakin.  It never gets any easier."  It always hurt, every day.  There was an ache in my heart whenever I thought of Qui-Gon, an echo of empty places, of things that never were.

 

Anakin lowered his gaze.  "I've been dreaming of my mother."

 

"Your mother?"  Anakin mentioned her often, wistfully, and I'd hated the fact that we'd never been able to get close enough to Tatooine to even consider a visit for him.  Getting out of Republic space when you didn't have your own transportation was next to impossible.  Requests for time off for Anakin to visit her had been denied, always under the header of us being desperately needed elsewhere.  I'd caught myself wondering, more than once, if the Council had kept us away from Tatooine space on purpose.  "What happens in them?"

 

Anakin sighed.  "She's on Tatooine, but I don't know where.  It doesn't feel like she's even a slave anymore.  There are sometimes other people around, but I don't know who they are, either.  It's just..." he hesitated.  "Nothing is ever wrong in these dreams, but I keep having them, over and over again."

 

"I'm not sure what to tell you, Anakin," I said, wishing I had something more to offer him.  "If nothing seems wrong, then perhaps it is merely the Force letting you know that everything is fine."

 

He seemed comforted by that.  "Do you really think so?"

 

I smiled.  "I try not to go looking for trouble where none seems to exist.  If nothing feels wrong, then it is very likely that all is well."

 

"Thank you Master.  That does help—" he stopped, his attention caught by something in the distance.  I frowned, following his gaze as a hint of something wrong caught my awareness. 

 

A bright plume of flame exploded into existence, followed by the echo of a massive explosion.  "Holy shit," Anakin whispered.

 

"Language," I said out of habit, too busy staring at the fire burning on top of one of the primary Senatorial residences.  Violence on Coruscant was not unheard of, but this was something new.  If I wasn't mistaken, that was a landing platform, and we'd just witnessed the death of a fairly large ship.

 

"Sorry," Anakin said, sounding shocked.  "Master, I have a really bad feeling about this."

 

I tracked the flight path of incoming firefighting crews, seized by a terrible feeling, one that stole into my heart and wouldn't let go.  It felt like a dam had just burst, and all of the detritus of the past few years was about to wash down upon us.  'Bad feeling' was putting it mildly.  "Me, too."


End file.
